


Take My Body

by paraselenewoman



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha Derek, Alpha Jordan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Begging, Caring Derek, Caring Jordan, Cock Warming, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domestic Discipline, Dubious Consent, FBI Agent Derek, FBI Agent Jordan, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hand Feeding, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, No Contracts, Omega Stiles, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Ownership, Polyamory, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Scent Marking, Service Submission, Spanking, Stiles is seventeen and will be eighteen later in the fic, Subspace, Threesome - M/M/M, d/s verse, needy Stiles, so much fluff tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraselenewoman/pseuds/paraselenewoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Jordan are Alphas.<br/>Stiles is their newly obtained omega.<br/>Everything is pretty terrifying.</p><p>If given the chance, though, Stiles probably wouldn't change a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ADOPT

Derek brings it up the morning before their fifth anniversary. He doesn’t say anything, just slides a piece of paper between his coffee mug and the bottle of pancake syrup until it rests right by Jordan’s plate.

Jordan gives Derek an amused smile before reading the slip. His eyebrows rise marginally as his eyes scan the words. Derek can’t help but notice how those same eyes, liquid emerald, look desperately hopeful when they stare back at him.

“Are you serious?” Jordan asks.

Derek offers an affirmative grunt.

Jordan reads the paper again and chuckles under his breath.

“You really want one? You think we’re ready for this?”

“I want what you want, Jordan.” Derek’s voice is rough with sleep. He wishes he sounded a bit more graceful, a bit more romantic. He takes a sip of his coffee and tries again.

“I love you and I can give this to you. You’ve always wanted an omega. We’re finally stable enough to get one now. We can afford him…take care of him. It’s not a dream you have to keep on the backburner anymore. Happy Anniversary.”

Jordan does this thing sometimes, where he just tilts his head slightly in wonderment. He stares at Derek like Derek hung the fucking moon and Derek can’t help but flush a bit.

“God, Derek,” Jordan starts softly, looking at his husband and then back down at his breakfast. “Thank you. My anniversary gift to you is shit compared to this, but I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

Derek smirks. “I have a fairly good idea.”

“Our own little omega.” Jordan lets out a breathy sigh and runs his thumb across the slave adoption form in his hand, already filled out with Derek’s scrawl.

\--

Derek loves seeing Jordan so happy. Jordan has wanted this for a long time now and Derek understands why. Despite them both being Alphas, Derek is the ultimate authority in their relationship and Jordan submits to him willingly.

It works for them.

Derek knows it’s an honor, knows that not all Alphas are capable of humbling themselves for another. Derek certainly isn't. His dominant nature is too strong a current inside him. Jordan surprisingly does it easily; he's even happy to do it.

Only for Derek, though. Never for anyone else.

Jordan is a beast in his own right, capable of some of the worst things. He’s one of the strongest Alphas Derek has ever come to encounter in his life. It’s why Derek savors in his submission; he knows how special it is, how rare. It’s a priceless gift.

It takes a toll on Jordan sometimes, Derek gets it. Jordan is an _Alpha_. There's a current inside him too. Jordan needs a release. He needs someone to submit to him. He needs someone to take care of, the same way Derek takes care of him. He needs someone to knot.

Derek gets it.

\--

A few months later, they finally get a call from the adoption agency.

The wait had been torturous, but Derek and Jordan kept busy by playing out certain fantasies; discussing all the things they would want to try with their boy, all the toys they wanted to purchase (and even prematurely purchasing a few), and all the rules they wanted to implement. They hardly fucked without the boy being mentioned at least once in foreplay.

They wound themselves up so tight that they knew the release was going to be dangerous once their omega was signed and sealed to a fate with them.

After several at-home and at-facility interviews, a few meetings with their lawyer to complete a mountain of paperwork, and a thorough house check, the facility grants Derek and Jordan an appointment to pick their omega out.

Jordan walks into the facility with his hand intertwined with Derek’s. They’re both nervous and excited and devoted to taking someone home today. They even brought a golden collar with them (carefully chosen by Jordan right after they received that first phone call) and a thick leather lead that wraps nicely around the fist. They haven’t decided if they wanted to use the lead regularly, but they do know it’s the facility’s policy to have one when taking an omega home.

A young social worker, a beta looking fresh out of college, greets them in the lobby.

“Hello gentlemen. You must be the Hales.” He extends his hand out, which both Jordan and Derek shake.

After studying their preferences on their application, the social worker takes them to the junior boys section. He gives them a container to sniff, a scent neutralizer, warning them that it would be overwhelming for them if they went in without it.

It’s a large room, the size of a gymnasium, filled with bunk beds all around. It’s packed with young men who are all wearing nothing but grey briefs. Some of them are sleeping; others are congregating, playing with a deck of cards or just talking. There are a few who are naked and tied to their bunks, mouths gagged, cheeks tear stained, cock rings snugly fitted on, and chunky dildos rammed up and vibrating in their small, quivering holes.

“Oh god,” Jordan says in a near moan.

“Beautiful, right?” The social worker grins. “All the boys have yet to experience a heat, having never been with an Alpha intimately yet. After their first Alpha cock, I’m sure a heat won’t take long to follow. They are on stringent training schedules that rotate between them, though. Some of our training techniques include what you’re seeing right now. We teach them to endure excess stimulation without the privilege of coming. Other activities include the boys practicing sex positions with each other, sans the penetration of course. We want them to be as flexible as possible for their new families. We also teach them to overcome their sexual insecurities. For instance, some Alpha clients already have curious, young children who may want to stroke the cocks or play with the holes when they’re here. We know these kids tend to experiment even more when an omega slave is actually adopted into their families. The last thing we want is for our boys to be willful and disobedient toward the children, just because they’re uncomfortable. It’s important they learn to accept that their new family members come in all ages.”

Jordan tries to swallow down his own discomfort after hearing the last part. He knows it happens, but it’s really hard for him to understand why some Alphas let their young children have access to omegas. It should be against the law, he thinks. There should be an age restriction. There should be required certification. Omegas are too vulnerable, too enslaved to their own instincts, to be touched by little kids who probably haven’t learned proper care techniques. Jordan feels nauseous when he thinks about it; about how Alphas are allowed to let their children “experiment” with omegas. They’re not toys. It doesn’t help that omegas present their status when they’re in their early teens, young and anxious and at the mercy of the big world around them that’s filled with all sorts of Alphas who want to devour them. They need to be in the ownership of an Alpha who will care for them appropriately and not put them in questionable positions within the household.

“You guys are very thorough here.” Derek clenches his jaw a bit, and Jordan doesn’t miss the slow in his voice; knows that Derek is just as disgusted as him.

The agency could be worse though, Jordan has to admit. At least they have a thorough screening process, if the months he and Derek waited are anything to go by. The omegas aren't just handed out like street flyers and that’s a relief.

 “Please, walk around. Some boys have been trained more than others, but all of them have at least four weeks under their belt. Take your time with them,” the social worker says.

Jordan jumps out of his previous thoughts, focusing on the right now. He knows whoever they choose will be taken care of. He nods at the social worker, grabs Derek’s hand, and eagerly leads him to one of the dildo stuffed boys. Derek huffs out a fond laugh and allows himself to be dragged along.

The boy they approach can’t be older than seventeen, with a mess of blonde curls and pleading blue eyes that shine with absolute fear as Jordan and Derek kneel down at his bottom bunk.

“Aren’t you a sweet little thing,” Jordan murmurs, rubbing his thumb on the boy’s nose so that he can be scented.

The boy calms down somewhat, closing his eyes and just _inhaling_ Jordan. It’s such a small thing, but it’s enough to make Jordan hard. He moves his thumb down, down, until he’s rubbing the boy’s baby soft nipple.

Derek can’t resist brushing the pads of his own fingers along the boy’s small, angry looking cock.

“Poor baby,” Derek croons, his voice heavy with arousal.

Jordan moves his hand to the boy’s hair and just pets him as the dildo vibrates and vibrates against, what is now surely, a very sensitive prostate.

“Such a good boy,” Jordan says to him. “Learning to be such a good boy so an Alpha takes you home, right?”

The boy just stares up with the same, frightened look he had before.

“Come on, Jordan. He’s really afraid. Encountering two Alphas is probably too overwhelming for him.”

They move on, walking between the groups of boys. A lot of them stop what they’re doing to stare at the two Alphas making rounds, but they’re encouraged to continue with their activities, to act normal. At one point, Jordan and Derek sit down with two boys playing checkers. They’re both infuriatingly adorable. One’s name is Scottie, seventeen with caramel skin and almond eyes. The other boy is Liam, fifteen with a very innocent face. Jordan places Liam on his lap and Derek puts Scottie on his, forcing the boys to play each other this way. For omegas, the boys are surprisingly forward. They begin wiggling their lithe bodies and grinding their plush butts into the covered, hard cocks their resting on. It’s too much for Jordan who, in the middle of the game, looks at Derek pleadingly.

“Can I?”

The boys look between the men, confused, and Derek has to adjust himself beneath Scottie before giving Jordan a nod.

Jordan manhandles Liam onto his hands and knees, ignoring Liam’s surprised yelp, and pulls down his grey underwear. Liam’s ass is nice and smooth, not even a single welt to indicate he’s been punished recently. Jordan barely knows him, but he’s proud of how well behaved the young omega is. He massages Liam’s shoulders in a soothing and rewarding gesture. Liam mewls, incredibly receptive to the attention he’s getting, and arches his back to present for Jordan.

“Alpha,” he begs.

 It doesn’t take long for Jordan to lose his patience. He begins to dry hump into Liam’s soft flesh, the outline of his cock rubbing dangerously close against Liam’s hole, until he comes in his pants.

“That’s a good boy,” Jordan heaves, resting his forehead on Liam’s back to catch his breath.

“Thanks.” It comes out of Liam’s mouth as part laugh and part whine.

 Jordan kind of wants to get him off too, knowing that’s the cause of the frustration. But he likes seeing Liam this way: Absolutely wrecked even though they practically did nothing at all. It’s beautiful and it makes him feel feral and possessive. He did that to the boy. Him.

Derek watches, eyes half-lidded and mouth nibbling on Scottie’s neck.

“That one is a possibility,” he says, letting up on Scottie who has all but melted in Derek’s lap. “If you could just see the stupid grin on your face right now.”

Jordan snorts.

Derek told him that he has the final say in which boy they get, that it’s a gift for him, but Jordan isn’t just going to ignore Derek’s opinion. The boy will be both of theirs so they both need to feel a connection. Jordan can tell Derek isn’t particularly drawn to Liam.

“Perhaps we can come back and spend more time with him if we don’t find anything else.”

Derek gives him a small, appreciative nod.

They let Scottie and Liam finish their game before kissing their cheeks and walking around again.

The more they examine the boys, the more Jordan’s thoughts go back to Liam. He begins to think that maybe Derek and Liam just need some time together.

But then they both notice someone else.

They pause at the same time and watch as a young boy, sixteen or seventeen, writhes on his top bunk as he pumps two of his fingers into his hole and strokes his cock furiously. A guard is standing nearby, monitoring as the boy moans and moans.

Hand in hand, Jordan and Derek walk over. The boy’s dark brown hair is drenched with sweat and is sticking up in all directions. His eyes are scrunched closed and his pale skin is splattered with freckles.

“He’s a pretty little thing,” Derek says first.

“Oh yes,” Jordan agrees, wants to growl it out because of how gorgeous the sight in front of him is. The need to claim is stronger here than in was with Liam.

“He’s a good boy too,” The social worker sneaks up behind them. “Happy hunting so far, I hope?”

“Things are looking brighter now.” Derek can’t take his eyes off the brown haired boy and Jordan is glad that they’re finally on the same page about someone. “Is this training too?”

“Oh no,” the social worker laughs. “This is a reward. The boys here get points for being good. A certain number of points can be redeemed for certain rewards. Stiles has been saving up for quite some time. He cashed in for an opportunity to have an orgasm.”

“Can we help him out?” Jordan asks.

“I think the boy would like that. It’s not every day you get two Alphas to dote on you.” The social worker walks up to Stiles, who is resting on his side now. “What do you say, sweetie? Need some help from these gentlemen?”

Stiles whines loud and sorrowful and frustrated. Jordan thinks the desperate look on his face is equal parts cute and hot as hell. He walks up to the bunk bed so that he can comb his fingers through Stiles' hair.

“Shh, Shh. Easy boy,” he comforts. “Want to scent me?”

Stiles blinks his eyes open, both his hands pausing on his body. He looks at Jordan with wide eyes and then at Derek, who hasn't made a move to come closer yet.

“You’ll let me?” There’s something skeptical about Stiles’ tone and Jordan doesn’t know why.

“Sure.” Jordan gently nudges his wrist up to Stiles’ nose and Stiles breathes in a lungful, looking absolutely grateful.

“Alpha,” he sighs and Jordan notices how the boy’s cock twitches a little. Seeing that, he feels like he just conquered something.

The social worker and monitoring guard have already left, giving them some semblance of privacy. Derek comes up behind Jordan and rests his chin on his shoulder.

Jordan guides Derek's wrist up to his lips and kisses it before placing it alongside his own so that Stiles can scent them both.

The combination makes Stiles restless and his hands immediately shoot back down to his cock.

“No.” Jordan keeps his voice level and firm. He can feel Derek’s proud smirk digging into his neck. The dominant fire that left his tongue felt good; felt intoxicating. He now realizes just how depraved he’s been.

Stiles freezes, looking at both the Alphas.

“No more touching yourself without our permission,” Jordan says. “You’ll get your orgasm, but only on our terms.”

Stiles pouts, but his eyes are begging.

“What do I have to do?” He lets out his words in soft, needy sighs and rubs his nose on both their wrists.

Derek goes to stoke Stiles' head with his free hand and Jordan completely understands the urge. Stiles is lovely.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” Jordan soothes as he moves his own unoccupied hand down to Stiles’ cock.

It’s small in Jordan’s hand, so he’s able to grip it pretty well in his fist. As he strokes Stiles nice and slow, Stiles jerks and cries out a high pitched “fuck”, which is then accompanied by a long, satisfied moan. 

“Feels different when it’s a bigger hand working you, right?” Derek asks.

Stiles doesn’t say a word. Jordan can imagine that everything probably just sounds static-like to him right now, but he can’t encourage bad manners. He gives Stiles a hard smack on the ass, leaving a nice, blushing hand print on the delicate flesh.

Stiles whimpers and blinks up at Jordan, gnawing at his lower lip.

“Answer him, kiddo. ‘Yes, No sir’ or ‘Yes, No Alpha’.”

“Yes, sir. Feels different. Better. Sorry for not answering, sir.”

Stiles looks at Derek with his eyes slightly lowered and then rubs his cheek against Derek’s wrist as an act of appeasement. Jordan just loves how _good_ he’s being.

Derek kisses Jordan’s cheek and whispers in his ear, "You’re doing great with him.”

Jordan grins. “Thanks.”

Derek takes his hand away from Stiles’ face, gives Stiles a kiss on the cheek too since the boy looks like he’s about to plead for some affection, and moves to the other side of the bunk. Stiles is already lubed up, it being only moments ago when he was stuffing his own fingers into his hole. Derek gently parts his cheeks and rubs his thumb in circles around Stiles' rim. Jordan makes it a point to stop his ministrations on Stiles’ cock. He really wants to see if Derek’s fingers alone will get the job done.

He watches Derek push the pad of his thumb in and out, watches as Stiles stretches out like a kitten to push back against Derek. The scent neutralizer has worn off a bit and Jordan can’t help but press his face into Stiles’ hairline, sliding his nose down to the boy’s temple.

He smells _su_ _cculent._ It’s different from Derek’s scent; Stiles is more…innocent. More yielding and sweet.

Stiles lets out a sob when Derek gets an entire thumb inside him. It's probably stretching him in a way that even his own two fingers can't accomplish. Jordan really just wants to burrow his face into Stiles’ neck, but he knows that the risk of biting him there is high. They need to sign some papers before any of that happens.

“Is your little hole going to take those fingers?” Jordan murmurs. “Are you going to let my husband rub and pump into you until you scream for us?”

“Yes, sir. Please.”

“Jordan, put some fingers in his mouth. See if he sucks well.” It’s the first command Derek has given so far and Jordan is more than happy to comply.

He traces Stiles’ lips with his three middle fingers, before forcefully pushing all of them in. Stiles readily begins to suck, keeps his teeth out of the way like he would if it was a cock in his mouth, and Jordan is pleased.

"He's great, Der."

Jordan tries to see how far he can push in, sees if he can get Stiles to gag a bit. At the same time, Derek adds two more fingers into Stiles’ hole causing the young omega to buck wildly.

Derek and Jordan, very calmly, steady him and hold him down easily with contented hums.

“This is just the beginning, Stiles,” Derek tells him. “If we adopt you, there will be so much more we will do with you…to you.”

Derek jabs into Stiles harder and Jordan can feel Stiles trying his best not to struggle in their hold on him.

“Good boy,” Jordan praises. “You’re going to come from his fingers only, do you understand? That’s what good omegas do. They don’t need their cocks touched to come, do they?”

“N-No, sir,” Stiles grits out, when Jordan releases his fingers.

Stiles’ cock is dripping and Jordan can’t help but swipe some of the pre-come up from the sheets and shove his slick fingers back into Stiles’ mouth.

“You like how you taste?” Jordan asks.

Stiles’ eyes are watery from gagging, but he nods and Jordan can feel how the boy's tongue is massaging his fingers and licking them clean.

“I know you’re close, baby,” Derek says to Stiles. “Don’t fight me. Give in.  Listen to your instincts. This is how it’s supposed to be. You submit to your Alphas.”

_Your Alphas._

Jordan is glad Derek said it, because he just can’t imagine _not_ taking Stiles home and making him theirs now. Stiles is already theirs. There was a point of no return and they already crossed it.

Derek roughly thrusts his fingers in _one, two, three_ more times when they both hear Stiles loud scream muffled by Jordan’s fingers. Stiles’ cock spurts and spurts and his entire body tenses as a small spasm goes through him.

“That’s right, Stiles," Derek speaks to him softly. " Keep clenching your hole on my fingers…It’s what you would do to a knot to milk it…Good boy."

Jordan, after releasing his fingers from Stiles’ mouth, focuses on petting and calming him down from the intensity of all that’s just happened. Derek continues to gently thrust his fingers in and out of Stiles’ still clenching hole. They both know Stiles will feel terrible if he's left empty while his body is still processing the aftershocks.

“Imagine what his first heat will be like,” Derek says.

“Are we going to be the ones who’ll be there?” Jordan needs more confirmation that, yes, they have made their choice.

“I want us to be.”

Jordan smiles in relief. 

“Yeah. Me too.”

\--

Stiles feels incredibly drowsy by the time his body fully calms down. He hears one of the Alphas tell the social worker that they’re interested in adopting him and he feels the other Alpha wipe his body with a cool washcloth.

He feels amazing.

His body is loose and relaxed and he finally gets to leave this hellhole. He did good. They like him. Granted, the prospect of having two Alphas is scary as fuck.

Scary.

As.

Fuck.

But he kind of likes them too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspiration: The song "All I Want" by Kodaline
> 
> I've been wanting to write this story for quite awhile and I'm so glad I found the time to finally do it. I hope it's an enjoyable read so far. Despite what it seems like, this won't be a porn without plot fic. I'm not sure how long I'm going to make this, but it should be a few chapters at least. I would love to read what any of you think of this so far, so please shoot me a comment :)


	2. PANIC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so completely overwhelmed by the amount of love this story has gotten. Thank you so much! And also thank you for being patient with me as I worked to get this chapter posted. Once summer begins, the updates won't take so long. I promise! xx
> 
> [beware: no beta - mistakes, maybe]

“I’M ADOPTED! I’M FREE!”

Stiles shouts this out to the world once he’s outside the agency doors. It doesn’t matter that he isn’t actually free; he’s wearing the golden collar that Jordan and Derek brought with them, he’s hooked to a lead Derek’s holding onto, and he’s wearing Derek’s leather jacket to cover up his mostly nude body. His appearance screams “claimed” in every sense of the word, but he’s beaming, wanting anyone and everyone to hear about how he’s escaped from the clutches of the evil social workers.

Jordan finds it charming, letting out a loud laugh as he watches Stiles make a show of holding his arms out wide, tilting his head up, and breathing in the fresh air like he’s been deprived of it for ages. Derek’s lips turn up too, more amused than anything.

“You sure this is the kid we were playing with an hour ago?” Derek whispers to Jordan. “That shy little guy who managed to let out more whimpers and whines than actual words?”

“I’m glad he’s happy.” Jordan gives Stiles a fond look, but still speaks quietly so only Derek can hear him. “I want him to want us.”

“He’d be stupid not to want you for an Alpha.” Derek grins and walks forward to nudge Stiles with his shoulder. “C’mon, troublemaker. No more disrupting the peace.”

Stiles turns to face both his Alphas. looking bashful.

“Sorry, I never really –” Stiles pauses and looks at the ground. “I _hate_ this place.”

Jordan reaches out instinctively and pulls Stiles closer to his body by the nape of his neck. The collar Stiles is wearing is pretty snug and Jordan loves that; loves how restrictive it is and loves how _owned_ Stiles looks with it on.

“It’s a good thing Derek and I found you then.” He strokes his thumb behind Stiles’ ear and emits a satisfied growl when Stiles slowly sags into contentment and rests his head on his chest.

Jordan can feel the tremors going through Stiles’ body, can feel how all the tension and excitement seeps out of the boy until he’s in a state of just _being_. It feels so good having an armful of omega. It feels right. Stiles is so submissive, so calm now, and so trusting. Jordan is overwhelmed with affection.

“Such a sweet, good boy,” Jordan says lowly, rubbing his hand up and down Stiles’ back. “You’re okay. We’ve got you now.”

Derek can get used to seeing Jordan and Stiles together. They’re so aligned, so perfectly fitted for each other, that it takes his breath away. He steps up and kisses the back of Stiles’ head, sandwiching the boy.

“Let’s get him home.”

//

Stiles knows that Alphas don’t adopt omegas until they’re doing pretty okay in life and are able to provide for someone who will be dependent on them one hundred percent. So he isn’t surprised when he walks into Derek and Jordan’s apartment and finds it to be insanely large, cleanly, and organized. It’s a loft really, with the living room on one side and a fancy looking kitchen on the other. There are big windows that brighten up the entire room and there are a variety of plants dispersed along the sill. The furniture looks like it cost so much that it’s probably not even polite to ask. The décor is simple, though Stiles can tell it’s still characteristic of his Alphas. There’s a wall to wall bookshelf in the living room filled with not only books, but also records. There’s a guitar in the corner and a neat looking video game console. There’s even a second floor that can be accessed by a sleek, spiral staircase.

Okay, so maybe Stiles is a little surprised. His Alphas aren’t just well off. They’re _well off._

He’s still by the doorway, taking it all in and unable to move forward. The fact that he belongs here now, belongs to them now, is strange to think about.

Derek disappears upstairs and Stiles watches as Jordan gets a glass of water from the kitchen. He is left completely unsure about what he’s supposed to be doing. The leash was taken off a while ago, before Stiles even got into their car, so he knows that he could maybe walk around freely. Still, he’d rather have permission first.

“Come here, kiddo,” Jordan calls out to him, leaning against the island in the kitchen. “This is your home now. Don’t be afraid to explore. The only place that’s off limits is the office upstairs. Derek’s up there now putting your adoption papers away, but we’ll show you where it is later.”

Stiles tentatively walks further into the apartment. He doesn’t know this territory and it feels very much like he’s walking into a lion’s den – wolves’ den. A surge of fear crawls up his spine. He _likes_ Derek and Jordan, he’s already decided that. They’re much nicer than some of the other Alphas that have spent time with him at the agency. He can’t deny that a feeling of pure warmth strangles his insides when he thinks about how he’s finally in someone’s possession, how he’s finally wanted. But the fear is there, even though Stiles wishes it wasn’t. Derek and Jordan are two strangers – _two_ Alphas. Stiles isn’t sure if he’s equipped to handle that. It’s terrifying having to submit to two people, having two sets of hands on him…Stiles can only imagine how strict they’re going to be, how much harder it will be for him to get away with things around here.

It scares him how easily he relaxes when Derek and Jordan touch him, how much he feels grounded with reality, how right the world feels. It’s all so new to him, so unfamiliar. But he knows he’ll give all of himself to them; his body, his submission, his everything. He isn’t going to be able to stop himself.

Being in their home makes it all the more real.The only recognizable thing here is the underwear Stiles is still wearing. Which is sad - sad that this is the only thing he can take comfort in right now. He wants to go back to feeling as good as he did right when he left the agency, but he can't stop the anxiety that’s filling him up to the brim.

This is really happening.

And he's terrified.

“Stiles, I need you to calm down,” Jordan tells him firmly, putting both hands on his shoulders to steady his trembling body. Stiles doesn’t even remember reaching Jordan in the kitchen, so Jordan must have met him halfway, noticing something was off. Stiles didn’t mean to advertise his apprehension, but now he’s breathing heavy and on the verge of a panic attack.

This is going great so far.

“The fear is coming off you in waves, pup, and your eyes are starting to lose focus. You need to calm down for me,” Jordan repeats.

Stiles feels Jordan slip Derek’s jacket off him, which helps a little because his body is flushed and rosy. Still, he feels like he’s unraveling and unraveling quickly.

“Can’t…calm…or…breathe,” Stiles wheezes out, his eyes watering and his knees buckling.

Jordan catches him before he can fall to the ground, lifts him up, and carries him to the couch.

“I know you’re feeling scared, Stiles, but you’re not in any danger,” Jordan tells him evenly, positioning Stiles on his lap. “Try to breathe with me.”

Stiles can hear Jordan creating a rhythm of inhales and exhales. It takes him a moment, but he manages to follow suit with his own breathing.

“That’s my good boy. I’m proud of you. Keep it up.”

Stiles closes his eyes, reveling in the praise, and burrows his face into Jordan’s neck. He’s thirsting for the comfort. Jordan’s scent immediately makes him feel better, makes him calm. He continues to breathe _in out in out_ , but he knows that it’s really Jordan being there that’s keeping him composed. That’s what an Alpha does.

“What happened?” Derek asks, descending the stairs.

“Only what they warned us would happen,” Jordan keeps his voice soft and soothing. “He had a panic attack.”

“Did you use the medicine they gave us?” Derek asks.

“No,” Jordan says. “I want him to calm down naturally if he can.”

Derek crouches down in front of them and Stiles feels uneasy listening to the Alphas talk. They were preparing for this to happen like it was inevitable. They were  _warned,_  like it’s something all omegas go through when they’re first adopted.  But Stiles was left clueless. Didn’t know. No one told him. How come no one told him?

He feels one of Derek’s large hands petting his bare legs and the other petting the back of his head. He’s being pushed further into Jordan’s neck and Jordan’s hands tighten around his body.

“I didn’t expect him to panic so soon,” Derek says. “I think we should claim him sooner rather than later. That will help him settle down. He’ll feel more comfortable here after the bond is solidified.”

Stiles stiffens at the suggestion. Getting off at the agency was one thing, but being claimed was something else. _He barely got here._

“Hush, Stiles,” Derek rumbles, his fingers tightening in Stiles’ hair. Stiles didn’t even realize he was making small noises of protest. “It’s our job to decide what’s best for you. You need to trust us, so let us explain.”

Stiles whimpers, a whole other kind of fear invading his body. He knows they don’t need his permission, knows that they could just take him if they wanted. On impulse, he pushes himself out of Jordan’s arms, taking both Alphas by surprise. His feet slip beneath him once they hit the ground, so he half crawls and half runs, thinking about nothing but getting far far away. 

He doesn’t make it very far at all.

Stiles gets tackled, the body on him crushing him into the ground. An angry growl vibrates in his ear and he cries out when he gets five sharp smacks on his ass.

“Jordan, stand him up,” Derek orders, his voice dangerous.

Stiles shivers when he’s stood up. His back is glued to Jordan’s chest and he feels Jordan’s bulge pressing into his now stinging ass. Derek comes into view in front of him, eyes bright red. A mewl gets caught in Stiles’ throat when he sees those eyes. The urge to sink back to the floor and belly up is overwhelming, and he totally would too if Jordan’s grip on him wasn’t murderous.

“We would never force you into our bed. We’re not like that. You didn't even let us explain.” Derek’s voice is hard, offended too, and Stiles can hear him breathing heavily. “Either way, you don’t _ever_ run from us. Do you know what happens when omegas try to run from their Alphas?”

Stiles doesn’t answer, just looks down at the ground. He’s relieved that they won’t rape him, but now he’s upset them. He’s an omega and it’s his job to please and obey, not dig himself into holes he won’t be able to get out of. Not insult them.

Stiles feels a finger poking under his chin, tipping his face up so he’s looking at Derek. He's only now realizing that Jordan’s breathing pretty heavily too.

How the fuck did all this escalate so quickly?

“Do you know what happens when omegas try to run from their Alphas?” Derek repeats.

Stiles keeps his eyes low, not daring to challenge Derek by making direct eye contact. “No sir.”

“The moment an omega runs is the moment they are seen as prey. It triggers our baser instincts and makes us lose some of our control.”

Derek pushes his hand between Jordan and Stiles, resting his palm on Stiles’ ass. Stiles bites his lip, tilts his head and presents his neck obediently because he knows this is all an act of ownership.

“You are so completely ours that we’ll chase you if you run,” Derek continues. “If you’re adamant about not wanting to be claimed forcefully, then running away is the last thing you want to do. Did you feel Jordan’s hard cock? I feel it pressing into the back of my hand right now. I can see it in his eyes how much he wants to rut into you, teach you who you belong to. That's what your running did. The only reason he's not inside you at this very moment is because I haven't given him permission yet. You're lucky our relationship works that way. "

Stiles' heart thunders. He didn't know any of this.

"If you ever do this again, we will be talking ankle manacles. Am I making myself perfectly clear?” Derek asks.

The hand that’s not on Stiles’ ass is now on his throat, Derek's thumb caressing his pulse above the collar. Stiles swallows hard. God, he’s an idiot.

“Yes sir.”

//

This isn’t exactly what Derek had in mind for Stiles’ first day home.

He tries to make his eyes go back to normal, doesn’t want the red to frighten Stiles any more than it already has. Jordan’s eyes are still red and Derek’s glad Stiles can’t see it. Jordan’s arms are also still punishingly tight around their omega. He hasn't said a word yet and Derek knows it’s because it’s taking every ounce of restraint for him to not pounce on Stiles again after what happened.

“I know, Jordan, I know. Look at me,” Derek says, cupping Jordan’s face over Stiles’ head. “We have him right here. He’s not going anywhere. He’s going to be a good boy and stay right where he belongs.”

Jordan looks into Derek’s eyes to settle down every possessive nerve in his body. He blinks a few times and gradually relaxes his grip on Stiles.

“Good, Jordan,” Derek says when he sees nothing but vibrant green staring back at him and looking for some guidance.

His lips lock with Jordan’s absurdly fast, his hands now firmly clutching Jordan’s face. Jordan lets him take the lead, opens his pretty mouth enough for Derek to explore, lick, and taste. Derek’s aware that Stiles is quite literally caught in the middle, his face pressed into Derek’s chest, pressed snuggly between their hard bodies. Derek also knows that having Stiles in this position is comforting Jordan.

“He’s ours, don’t worry.” Derek keeps murmuring this to Jordan like a mantra between their kisses and Jordan slowly comes back to himself.

After a few more minutes of making out, Derek breaks away to let Jordan catch his breath. Jordan buries his face in Stiles’ hair, sniffs him, and gives the top of his head a chaste kiss before moving away to give Stiles some room.

“He won’t do that again,” Derek tells him. “He didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Jordan sighs. “You’d think the agency would tell omegas about Alpha instincts. That could have been bad, Der.”

“I’ll call them tomorrow and tell them how their negligence put Stiles in danger.”

Stiles looks up at the both of them, looking both overwhelmed and exhausted.

"I'm sorry I ran."

“We wouldn’t force you,” Jordan reassures him. “Please don’t be afraid.”

“I don’t want to be. I hate feeling this way. Why do I feel like this?" Stiles whines, rubbing his face in a way that makes him look absolutely adorable. 

“C’mon. We’re going to feed you and then you’re going to rest,” Derek decides. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

"What about you claiming me?" 

"What about it?" Derek asks.

"Will you two do it today?"

"We won't do anything until you ask us to, pup," Derek says.

"I can't avoid it forever, though," Stiles mutters, wrapping his arms around his body. "It'll make me feel better?"

Jordan looks to Derek and they have a silent conversation. _We should explain, right? We don't want to coerce him but-  Yeah, we should explain._

"Yes, it will make you feel better," Jordan finally says. "Your panic attack was triggered by our home. It’s a common thing that happens when omegas get adopted. It’s kind of like culture shock. You’re in our territory now and it’s unfamiliar to you, so you started feeling anxious and afraid. Once you let us have you, it will feel like you've known us your entire life. This will feel like your home. That's what the bond does."

Stiles looks around him and then looks at his Alphas.

"Okay." Stiles voice is soft.

"Okay?" Jordan asks.

Stiles sinks to his knees, arms behind his back, thighs spread. Just like he was taught.

"You can have me."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to share your thoughts! I love hearing from you!


	3. CONSUMMATE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone for so long! And I'm so sorry for that. I travel and things just got to a point where I couldn't keep up with anything. But here is the long awaited chapter 3! Full of kinky smut, by the way.
> 
> This story has gotten so much love, it's a bit overwhelming! Thank you for the kudos and the kind comments! I'm going to try my best to reply to everyone and edit this chapter as needed, but I was super eager to post! 
> 
>  
> 
> xx

Jordan walks over to Stiles’ kneeling form and combs his fingers through the pup’s disheveled hair. The unexpected chase left them all looking a little bit wild and left Jordan still feeling a little bit feral.

It doesn’t bother him, though.

Jordan knows who he is as an Alpha, knows that he is a little rough around the edges. He’s come to terms with it, accepted it as a part of who he is. He can be vicious at times and Derek’s the only one who can reel him in if he ever goes too far. It’s really a testament to the amount of power Derek has, him being the only Alpha on the planet who can make someone like Jordan kneel.

God help anyone who crosses Derek.

Stiles leans into Jordan’s touch and with a deep sigh, thumps his head on Jordan’s thigh.

“Want my mouth?” Stiles’ throat is itchy and dry. Then there’s Jordan’s denim, which feels rough against his lips and it’s all so intimate. He still manages the question, though.

Jordan and Derek don’t need to be mind readers to know their omega is just trying to be brave for them. The kid was running away less than 5 minutes ago.

“Yeah, I want your mouth.” Jordan’s nothing if not honest. “But how about we order some dinner and watch a movie first?”

“You like pizza, kiddo?” Derek asks, already picking up the phone.

Stiles gives them both a bothered stare.

“I’m offering myself to you on a silver platter and you’re talking dinner and a movie?” Stiles whines, actually _whines_. “Why can’t we just get this thing over with already?”

Jordan curls his fingers in Stiles’ hair and forces the boy’s head up. He expertly releases a claw on his other hand and traces the curve of Stiles’ neck with it, not hard enough to draw blood but certainly hard enough to make it feel uncomfortable.

Under his finger, he feels Stiles swallow hard.

Stiles’ mind is going a mile a second. He sees Derek arching an eyebrow at him and Jordan has his head tilted, like he’s patiently waiting for a naughty boy to admit his wrongdoings. They’re both wanting him to draw his own conclusions about his current fuck-up and they’re both bastards for it.

“Was it something I said?” Stiles asks, feeling dumb.

Jordan decides to take pity, because Stiles is new and scared and learning. But before he can open his mouth, Derek speaks up.

“You want to get this over with like it’s a chore or something, pup?” Derek squats down next to Stiles, but still manages to tower over him. “You want to treat what will probably be the biggest moment in your life like it’s something on our to-do list?”

“N-no,” Stiles squeaks out. “But I’m running on adrenaline. My nerve to do this will be gone later. Guaran-fucking-teed.”

“Trust me,” Jordan says. “We want to claim you as soon as possible. But it’s not going to be a quick rut on the floor and a slap on your ass. Not a chance in hell, kid.”

“We’re going to take it slow and make you beg for it, Stiles,” Derek says, moving his hand to rub the omega’s soft tummy. “We’re going to keep you warm and fed. We’re gonna take care of you ‘cause you’re our boy now. And then you’re going to beg for us. It’s going to be the longest night of your life, little one.”

Derek moves his finger up and pinches one of Stiles’ nipples, causing Stiles to let out a cry and jerk in shock. Jordan keeps a steady hold on him though.

“So do you like pizza or not?”

\------

When the pizza arrives (double pepperoni at Stiles’ request) and the movie is set up, Derek moves the coffee table out of the way and begins to pile down a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor - blankets and pillows soaked in his and Jordan’s scent.

“You want me to nest?” Stiles gives the pile an incredulous look, though the omega in him is practically mewling at the opportunity. “Isn’t that for bred wolves?”

“I don’t think there are any rules. We just want you to find some comfort here,” Derek says. “Not interested?”

“Didn’t say that,” Stiles mumbles, looking away.

It’s actually taking a lot for him to not make camp in the pile. Every bone in his body is screaming for him to gorge himself in his Alphas’ scent, something that has proven to calm him, something that has proven to calm most omegas. His biology demands that he cuddle up enough to where he feels relaxed and unthreatened by anything, cuddle up until all his jitters go away.

“Take off your underwear, Stiles,” Jordan orders.

Stiles’ entire body warms up at the command, but he’s not going to disobey them anymore. The running fiasco was enough, thank you. Plus, they’ve already seen all of him, already touched all of him. Playing at modest now would be dumb.

He takes off the tight, grey briefs and Jordan promptly throws them away.

“Hey!” Stiles complains. “Those were fine!”

“They’re not ours,” Jordan calmly explains. “They’re not pack. Everything you wear from now on is going to be provided by us.”

“Here, Stiles.” Derek wraps a soft throw around Stiles’ shoulders and Stiles clings it around his body. The scent of it is so overwhelming and soothing, it makes him shudder.

“Jordan was fucked on that nice and slow this morning,” Derek whispers in his ear.

“Dude!” Stiles is about to fling the blanket away, but both Derek and Jordan stop him.

“Take it and go to the nice pile that was made for you,” Jordan tells him.

“But-”

“Stiles,” Derek says, his gaze hard. “We know you like it. We’re not going to play these games with you. Be a good boy and do as you’re told. We’ll bring the food over.”

Stiles stares at them for awhile, before sucking in his lips and walking over to the pile with the blanket wrapped around him. Derek and Jordan don’t take their eyes off him until he plops down and relaxes back into one of the pillows.

Jordan turns to Derek first, when he knows they have some privacy.

“He’s so nervous, he’s fighting his own instincts. Stuff like that can get you killed, Der.”

Derek lets out a low laugh. “We’re not sending him to battle. He’s young, he’s newly adopted, and a bit scared. Let him fight his instincts a little. He won’t be able to fight ‘em forever. He’ll get to where he needs to be eventually.”

“The more he fights his wolf, the more panicked he’s going to get.”

“Then we’ll give him some of that medicine and try again tomorrow.”

“I’m not giving him that shit,” Jordan says. “That omega care book we got a few months ago talks about how it will just make him sluggish and docile. I’m not going to fuck up his health.”

Derek gives him an earnest look, placing his hands on his wound-up mate’s shoulders.

“We’ll figure something else out then. But I really do think we’ll bond tonight.”

“Are we eating soon?” Stiles calls over.

Derek and Jordan look over, pleased to see that Stiles has been rearranging the pillows and blankets in the pile to his own liking, making the space his. And he never once took off the throw Derek wrapped around him.

“Yeah, pup. Be there in a sec,” Jordan says, then turns to Derek to whisper. “The nest was a good idea.”

Derek smiles and squeezes Jordan’s shoulders. “I have a few other tricks up my sleeve.”

“Oh?”

Derek kisses his cheek. “C’mon. Poor kid’s probably starved.”

\----- 

Stiles is a little bummed when Derek and Jordan decide to sit on the couch instead of on the floor with him, but then Jordan pulls him over so that his back is resting on the bottom of the couch and he’s trapped between Jordan’s legs.

It’s these small acts that remind Stiles that he belongs to them. That’s he’s not alone, and yeah, he guesses it’s okay if they don’t sit on the floor with him. I mean, they didn’t forget about him or anything. If they ignored him, well then _that_ would hurt like a motherfucker.

But no. Jordan’s got him, even on the floor, and is petting him while Derek turns the movie on.

His Alphas decided they wanted to watch some popular flick that recently came out on DVD. Stiles doesn’t know it. He hasn’t really kept up with what’s good at the agency.

They watch the movie, eating pizza and laughing at what turns out to be a comedy. Stiles manages to scarf down two slices on his own, but when he reaches for a third, Derek stops him.

“Here,” he says, holding a piece of pepperoni near Stiles’ lips.

Stiles doesn’t do anything at first, just sits there a bit stunned, but then he cranes his neck up and opens his mouth to delicately retrieve the offering with his tongue and teeth. He closes his eyes and chews slowly, savoring the saltiness. He can’t deny that the food tastes ten times better this way. He just can’t.

“Lick off his fingers,” Jordan orders, still petting him.

Stiles can practically feel his skin is turning pink.

Derek rubs his greasy fingers against Stiles’ lips, until Stiles opens enough for him to push into his warm mouth.

“Fuck,” Derek breathes. “Good boy.”

“Told you his mouth was nice,” Jordan says.

The praise is enough to encourage Stiles to suck and lick, and he doesn’t stop until Derek takes his fingers out.

Jordan is the next to press a bite-sized piece of pizza against his lips. Stiles twists around so he’s facing away from the TV and is, instead, on his knees and facing his Alphas on the couch.

He lets Jordan feed him the piece and takes his time licking off the sauce and cheese stuck on Jordan’s fingers.

This is how the rest of the movie watching goes; Derek and Jordan continue to take turns feeding their omega, while said omega is put into a food coma.

Stiles has never felt more content in his life and he’s sure it shows.

“You were such a good pup,” Jordan tells him when the movie is over. “Did you like us feeding you?”

Stiles nods shyly. “It was good” is all he can manage to say.

“I’m going to put another movie on, Stiles,” Derek says, getting up and clearing the food away. “Would you like to sit on the couch for this one? Be a little closer to us?”

Stiles would like that.

He stands up, keeping the blanket wrapped around his bare body, but before he can sit on the couch, Jordan pulls him onto his lap.

Stiles squirms a bit to get comfortable, but Jordan just maneuvers him until his head is tucked under Jordan’s chin and he’s kept still.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he was expecting for the next movie, but he wasn’t expecting this.

On the screen, there’s a naked omega tied up on a mattress with two Alphas hovering over him.

Honestly, it startles Stiles. It makes him feel awkward enough to keep up his squirming. But Jordan is holding him tight and restraining him, arms and all, probably thinking he’s going to make a run for it again.

Derek sits down, his thighs touching Jordan’s and his arm stretched back over the couch. The video progresses with the omega eventually being untied, unwrapped like a gift, and put on his hands and knees. One of the Alphas plays with his hole, as the other wastes no time and chokes the boy on his cock.

Stiles shudders, becoming stiff in Jordan’s embrace when he feels his hole slicking up. It’s never happened before, but then again, Stiles has never been with Alphas before. He’s never been triggered like this. It’s embarrassing, but he can’t stop what’s happening.

Jordan and Derek scent it on him almost immediately and then Jordan’s jeans become a mess of evidence. Stiles is absolutely red and mortified.

“It’s okay, Stiles” Derek whispers to him. “It’s normal. You don’t have to fight it.”

Jordan’s response is to get hard under him and Stiles breathes out slowly. He nods his head as if to say _Yeah, this IS okay_. And anyway, he seems to be incapable of looking away from the video, where the omega is naturally slicked too.

The agency prepared him for this. They prepared him to be the boy on the screen.

It gets to a point in the video where the omega is just getting fucked and fucked and fucked with no end in sight.

The blanket around Stiles has already been discarded, per his shy request since he was too hot to be bothered with it. Derek’s hand is rubbing his thigh, not once touching his cock like Stiles wants him to. Jordan’s chin is resting on his shoulder, arms still tight around his waist and lips occasionally kissing his neck below the collar.

It the most frustrating fucking thing Stiles has ever been put through. It feels like he’s getting wetter and wetter and he’s pretty sure this is what his Alphas were planning all along.

“Please…I can’t anymore…” Stiles begs, looking over at Derek. “It’s too much.”

“What do you want, kiddo?” Derek asks lowly, his hand inching higher.

Stiles whines when he feels Jordan nipping at his ear.

“Bond. Want to bond now,” Stiles manages to say.

“You sure, sweetheart?” Jordan whispers. “There’s no going back.”

“Yes.” Stiles’ skin feels prickly and there’s an itch there he just can’t seem to scratch. “Please, please, please.”

Derek hushes him with kiss that’s so forceful, Stiles is pushed back into Jordan’s embrace. Stiles can feel the subtle affection in the kiss, but he knows that what Derek really means to do is claim; to show Stiles that he is more or less owned. His lips get bitten and he knows that they will be puffed up and looking wrecked tomorrow.

Jordan is not one to be left out and Stiles lets out a surprised grunt when he feels the other Alpha harshly sucking on his neck. Jordan was only teasing before with the kisses - _this_ is what he really wanted to do.

He’s being marked and his body aches between his Alphas and it’s a little unfair that they are still clothed when all Stiles wants is more skin to skin contact.

They both eventually stop the assault on his body. Stiles’ neck hurts, most likely bruised, and his lips are throbbing. But the pain feels right.

His Alphas start making out above him, and Stiles is beginning to realize that this is going to be a thing that he is _all_ for. He likes watching them, two powerful personalities clashing it out in the most passionate way.

Jordan fights for dominance, pushing back against Derek's force, pushing Stiles into Derek’s chest, but it’s Derek who wins, throwing Jordan off the couch and into the pile and landing on top of him, demanding submission.

Stiles is a casualty in it all, falling hard on top of Jordan too and still trapped between the battling Alphas. They don’t mind that’s he’s in the middle of it, probably _wanting_ him to be in the middle of it. Clothes get ripped off, and Stiles is turned on but feeling awkward because he thinks he’s in the way. There’s no time to really think though because Jordan eventually relents and backs off.

Still, Derek keeps kissing Jordan, now pliant, until he’s satisfied enough to break away. When he does, Jordan presents his neck, which Derek gently pecks. He kisses Jordan’s lips again too, softer this time.

They’re both breathing heavy now and Stiles is just kind of stunned, not knowing where to look.

“Your turn, pup.” Derek says to him. “Show me you know how to submit.”

Stiles is not an Alpha, so he’s definitely not looking for a fight like Jordan. He’s pretty sure he’d get spanked if he tried anything like what Jordan did. He readily tilts his head to the side, doesn’t even make eye contact with Derek, and jolts when Derek begins to suck on his already tender neck, probably deepening the bruise that Jordan left.

“Good boy,” Jordan tells him, his hand on the top of Stiles’ head to keep him from moving. “Let him mark you.”

Stiles moans out, pain and pleasure intertwining.

Derek ends it with a lick and kisses Stiles’ temple.

"Since you're a gift for Jordan, he'll have you first. He won’t knot you, though. I’ll be the first to knot you to start the bonding process."

"Pack dynamics and all that," Jordan helpfully interjects, winking at Stiles.

"You either come on my knot or you don't come at all, pup," Derek continues. "Jordan has my permission to knot you afterwards. It’s going to be a long night, so you'll behave and do as you’re told. Okay?”

Stiles feels delirious, but nods his head.

“Not good enough, Stiles. I need words.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do as I’m told.”

“Good boy. Get on your hands and knees facing towards me,” Derek instructs.

Stiles obeys and lets Derek adjust him forward so that his head is cradled on Derek’s shoulder.

Derek kisses his temple again.

“Don’t be frightened. You’re slick enough for him to enter you. Once he’s in you, he won’t be able to stop. I’m right here keeping an eye on him. He might get rough in his excitement. This is going to be a new feeling for the both of you. If it’s too much, just let me know. I’ll tell him to slow down. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” Stiles shakes with anticipation.

“Der,” Jordan begs, shaking too and squeezing his erect cock.

“Try to be gentle, babe. He hasn’t taken a real cock and he’ll be tight.”

“Yeah,” Jordan says, moving forward to rub his finger on Stiles’ wet rim and then pushing it in.

“Alpha…” Stiles cries, trying to push back. Derek won’t let him.

“Fuck Derek,” Jordan says, adding another finger. “Can I..uh?”

“You want him to fuck you, kiddo?” Derek’s lips move on Stiles’ hairline.

“Yeah…yeah…” Stiles breathes out.

Jordan pumps his fingers in and out, amazed at how wet Stiles has gotten despite not being in heat.

“I want him wrecked,” Jordan admits. "Marked up and wrecked."

Jordan takes his fingers out, ignoring Stiles' sorrowful whine, and licks his fingers clean. He can't help the low moan that escapes his mouth or the way his eyes roll back when Stiles' sticky sweetness coates his tongue.

Stiles is every bit omega, down to his taste. It's something Jordan's never had and he knows that it's also something that he can't live without now.

He leans over Stiles to reach Derek and softly says "taste" before opening his mouth up for Derek to kiss. Derek groans into it, sucking Jordan's tongue.

"Fuck. That's good," Derek breathes out. 

Jordan moves back and roughly pulls Stiles' cheeks apart. The boy is leaking and Jordan can't resist. He dips down and slowly licks up Stiles' crack.

"Oh my god," Stiles cries.

Jordan presses his lips to Stiles' hole and sucks, devouring the boy.

"Arch your back for him," Derek instructs Stiles, fisting his own cock. "Make it easier for him to enjoy you."

Stiles obeys and stretches out his body. Jordan grunts appreciatively and pops his tongue in and out of Stiles, just playing with him and feeling him, before grazing his teeth on the rim and pulling away.

"Gonna fuck him, Der," Jordan says.

He squeezes his cock, releasing some pre-come, and smears it around Stiles’ hole before pushing the tip in.

"Go on, Jordan," Derek says. "If you want him to do something, just tell him. He's going to be a good little boy for you."

“I just want…him…” Jordan speaks slowly, trying to breach through the tightness. “…to stay…still.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Stiles whimpers, closing his eyes tightly and tensing up. Nothing big like Jordan has ever been inside him and he was totally not prepared.

“Shh,” Derek tells him. “You’re okay. Just breathe in my scent to relax your body. You’re taking Jordan beautifully.”

Stiles buries his face in Derek’s neck, a wave of calm coming over him and loosening his body up enough for Jordan to push all the way in.

“Holy fuck,” Jordan says. He pulls back out, slow again, but pushes back in hard with his hands squeezing Stiles’ hips.

Stiles yells into Derek’s throat, but yields to Jordan as Jordan plows into him. The Alpha’s thrusts are jerky and eager and Stiles is too overwhelmed to do anything other than moan and cry out like the needy omega he is.

“Derek,” Jordan grunts out, snapping his hips evenly. “What. The. Fuck. Have. I. Been. Missing. Out. On?”

Derek laughs. “Is he what you wanted?”

“He’s fucking perfect…” Jordan says out of breath.

He pumps in and out of Stiles roughly, just like Derek predicted, and Stiles is pretty sure he would have fallen over if Derek wasn’t holding him up.

Stiles can't find any fault in it though, because it feels pretty amazing, like nothing he’s ever felt from one of the agency toys. He just wants more. He’s murmuring unintelligible things to Derek and realizes tears are leaving his eyes, which is dumb but he can’t help it. Derek just pets his head, praises him for being good, and braces him each time Jordan moves in hard.

Jordan eventually starts going faster and jackrabbits in, towering over Stiles’ back and resting his head between Stiles’ shoulder blades.

“There you go, Jordan. Go harder if you need to. He can take it. I got him.”

Jordan does, groans and whines escaping his lips as he feels his knot begin to grow.

“Derek, I want to…”

“Later,” Derek tells him firmly.

Jordan obeys and grips his knot so that it doesn’t enter Stiles. He continues to fuck in, but finds it hard to seal the deal this way.

“S’not gonna happen like this,” Jordan says, pumping in futilely.

Stiles whimpers, arching his back to take more of Jordan in.

“You presenting for me, sweetheart?” Jordan asks. “You were trained so well, weren’t you? Can’t wait to have you stuck on my knot. But you’ve got to be patient. It’s Derek’s right to breed you up first.”

Jordan pulls out, despite Stiles’ protests, still erect and dripping. He switches places with Derek, who flips Stiles on his back. Stiles rests his head in Jordan’s lap, Jordan’s cock rubbing up against his cheek, and Jordan grips his legs open for Derek.

“You’ll get knotted this time, pup.”

Derek wastes no time and pulls Stiles’ cheeks apart to examine his wet and twitching hole. He pushes the head of his cock in while rubbing his thumb on Stiles’ rim, coaxing the boy to take his girth. He’s a little thicker than Jordan and doesn’t miss the way Stiles’ shoulders tense or the hitch in Stiles’ breathing.

Stiles is small, but Derek likes that. Likes that it takes some effort to push in, likes how scorching hot it feels inside, and likes how Stiles is trying so hard to accommodate his length. Derek pushes in further and further until he’s buried to the hilt.

Stiles turns his head into Jordan’s lap, and with courage he had no clue he had, mouths at Jordan’s knot for some sort of comfort.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Jordan and Derek say at the same time.

Stiles just closes his eyes, continues to lick and suck while Derek pulls out and pushes back in at a different angle.

Stiles arches up and gasps, mouth forming a “o” on Jordan’s knot, and Derek slams back into that spot again, harder this time, making Stiles tremble and whimper into Jordan’s flesh.

“How does that feel Jordan?” Derek asks.

“So fucking good,” Jordan moans, his fingers curling tightly in Stiles’ hair. “Can I put my cock in his mouth, let him keep me ready for when I get to knot him?

“Try not to choke him too much,” Derek warns, slamming his hips in at a faster pace.

Jordan urges the tip of his cock into the Stiles’ mouth, and Stiles begins to suck earnestly.

“There you go, nice and easy,” Jordan encourages. “Try to take some more.”

Stiles takes as much as he can, feeling Jordan at the back of his throat and feeling Jordan’s knot grazing his lips.

“That’s so good, Stiles,” Derek says, impressed. “Keep him nice and warm until he fucks you again.”

Stiles moans and chokes around Jordan each time Derek slams into him, and Jordan fucking loves it, thinks they should have gotten an omega sooner if this is what it was going to be like from now on.

Derek keeps humping, moving his calloused fingers up Stiles’ body to pinch the boy’s pert nipples. Stiles jerks in surprise, but Derek is relentless, moving into him faster and faster until his knot swells up. He stills himself and Stiles with a grip on Stiles’ hips and slowly pushes his knot in.

Stiles wails on Jordan’s cock and Jordan can’t help but push in a little deeper and rub his own knot with his thumb, watching Derek work.

When Derek gets his knot in, it’s still small enough for him to pull back out. He experiments a bit, fucking his knot in and out until it gets too big and ties them together.

Stiles whimpers and Derek lets out a pleased grumble and pats his ass. “There’s a good boy.”

He feels Stiles clench on his knot, so Derek drops his head into Stiles’ neck and begins to lightly nip at the deep purple bruise. It only takes him a few more restricted jerks to start coming. He bites Stiles hard, drawing blood, and keeps thrusting, pumping his seed in and letting his knot rub up against Stiles’ prostate.

Stiles screams around Jordan and feels like he’s about to black out. His thighs are shaking so badly and his eyes are wet. He’s on the edge, almost there. It’s feels like he’s sucking Derek in deeper, and maybe he is, but Derek won’t stop rutting against him and - _oh fucking hell_ \- this is happening.

Stiles comes with a muffled cry, his small cock spasming out his spend. He clenches onto Derek’s knot and hears Derek growl into his neck and release another stream of come. Stiles just keeps sucking on Jordan to calm himself down, because all this feels too good and too right and it's too much and _they’re not even done_.

He has two Alphas to please and he knows he’ll be a fucking mess by the end of it.

Stiles doesn’t know how long they stay like that. Jordan is petting the side of his face, rubbing the tears away and Derek keeps licking at his neck wound. Derek hasn’t stopped coming, not really at least, because Stiles can still feel his cock twitch inside him.

30 minutes later and Derek is pulling out gently, getting off of Stiles’ aching body. Jordan pulls his hard cock out of Stiles’ mouth and everyone is so silent now, but Stiles is kind of glad for it. 

“Jordan’s going to knot you now,” Derek tells him quietly. “He’s been so patient, hasn’t he? I think he deserves a flushed little omega on his lap.”

Derek moves Stiles so that he’s facing Jordan and his knees are on either side of Jordan’s thighs. Jordan braces Stiles’ hips and slowly seats him on what is now an angry looking cock.

Stiles is sensitive now, but it does feel nice being filled up again. He didn’t like it much when Derek pulled out, honestly. He takes Jordan’s knot easy enough and shudders when he feels it pulling against his swollen rim.

Jordan clenches his eyes shut, overwhelmed with pleasure because he’s fucking his knot into someone, _finally_ , and nips on Stiles’ neck in the same way Derek did.

“It’s alright, Jordan,” Derek soothes, reaching an arm around to pet Jordan’s nape. His other hand moves down to where Jordan and Stiles are joined and he traces a finger around the rim that is stretched wide on his mate’s cock. “Move his hips up and down and let your knot rub into him. You’re close, aren’t you baby?”

Jordan nods and does as he’s told. He grinds Stiles on his lap, feeling his knot being kneaded by Stiles’ tightness. It’s like a fucking furnace, and _oh god_ , Derek will have to keep giving him pointers because this is amazing.

“Almost there…” Jordan warns. “I’m almost - ”

Jordan comes hard, his cock pulsing out his seed in waves, and then instincts take over and he bites Stiles’ neck, re-opening the wound Derek created, and just _tastes_ his omega while the boy gets filled and flooded with his come. He grunts, completely satisfied, and keeps Stiles pressed up against him.

Stiles is exhausted and feels limp. The only thing he manages to do is loll his head onto Jordan’s shoulder. Derek is pressed up behind him, rubbing his shoulders, and he sees his two Alphas sharing a sweet kiss. He even hears Jordan murmur a quiet “Thank you, Derek.”

Stiles was right; he feels a fucking mess.

But he feels something else too, something he didn’t feel before.

He feels completely safe. These are his Alphas. And he’s safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps one more chapter will do this story in! Let me know what you think!!


	4. SLEEP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The highly anticipated chapter 4! 
> 
> I was quite excited to post, so if there are any glaring mistakes, they will be fixed. 
> 
> I feel like I should apologize because I update slow. The reason for this is because I travel. Sometimes I can only take 15-30 minutes out of my day to write. I want to promise faster updates, but it's really just a question of how fast I can write long, decent chapters.
> 
> That being said, I want to continue writing more chapters for this story. In the beginning, I never imagined so many people loving this. Thank you for all the kind comments, and all the eager ones begging for updates! I love y'all!
> 
> (no beta + please read the tags)
> 
> xx

Stiles didn’t intend to pass out.

Like really.

On a list of what he expected during his ~big deflowering moment~, passing out was off the page and in another universe.

When he comes to, he’s still on Jordan’s lap. They’re sitting on the couch now, the lights dim and the T.V. off. A blanket is draped over Stiles’ bare back, and his head is resting on Jordan’s shoulder. He hears both his Alphas speaking in hushed voices, probably for his benefit, and peripherally sees them share a few kisses between words. It all feels like home and apple pie and love.

It only takes a little wiggle for Stiles to fully realize that – yep – Jordan’s still inside him.

Everything hurts.

The muscles in his thighs feel like they’ve been torn, his arms are dead weight, his lips are throbbing fiercely, and he can’t even begin to register the pain in his neck. He’s still clenching on Jordan’s knot, which he’s glad for, because once Jordan’s out, Stiles is sure he’ll begin to feel the soreness there too.

“Mmph.” He lets out a whine from the back of his throat, and rubs his itchy nose on Jordan’s collarbone.

“Back with us, kid?” Jordan asks, stroking Stiles’ abdomen.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes. “It feels like I got hit by a truck.”

Derek hums in sympathy and leans over to kiss the corner of his lips. “We’ll take care of you,” he says, nice and quiet and soothing. “Jordan just needs to come down a bit.”

“S’okay,” Stiles says, turning his head and cuddling in with Jordan some more. “I can sleep a little now, yeah?” He mumbles the question into Jordan’s skin, already dosing off.

“Yeah, pup,” Jordan says, hand reaching for Derek’s. “We’ve got you.”

*

Stiles wakes up when he feels himself being jostled in someone’s arms.

Derek.

They’re going up the stairs, Jordan lagging behind to turn on the alarm system and check the locks. Derek brings Stiles into their en suite bathroom and deposits him on the counter.

Stiles, tired, continues to lean himself forward to rest his head on Derek’s chest, not willing to let the Alpha walk away from him. Derek snuffs a grin and obliges Stiles by petting him.

"I know you’re exhausted, kiddo, but we have to get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“I guess,” Stiles relents, moving back and letting Derek get on with his plans.

Derek fills the bathtub up, and drops in a lavender bath bomb. Laura told him omegas loved these during heats, after long nights, or even after they’d just been punished and their Alphas were feeling generous. Taking his sister’s advice, Derek purchased a few of them. 

The lovely scent immediately fills up the room, and Stiles perks up, if only a little. It’s cute, Derek thinks. The boy tentatively hops off the counter and inches closer to the tub.

Laura was right: this was definitely some omega thing.

Jordan comes back right when Derek helps Stiles climb in.

Stiles lets out a pleased mewl, and sinks lower into the tub. His mind is floating and his aches feel far away now. He kind of wants to drown himself, but in a good way.

Derek and Jordan climb in too, the perks of having invested in a bathroom remodel that included a larger tub, and Derek pulls Stiles back to rest against him while Jordan runs a wash cloth along his body.

Soft noises of contentment leave Stiles’ lips, and his body shakes a bit because of how nice everything feels. Every touch from Derek and Jordan reassures him and makes him feel like he’s being obedient and good for them. They’re taking care of him, so he’s probably doing something right. Right?

He gets cleaned thoroughly, and once the water cools, Derek carries his sluggish body out and towels him off. Jordan drains the tub, and grabs a towel for himself and Derek too, before collecting a new toothbrush from under the sink for Stiles.

Bodies dry, teeth brushed, and Alphas dressed (Stiles is told he sleeps naked, so ok, there’s that), and Stiles is led back into the bedroom and onto the bed.

He turns over onto his stomach and doesn’t see Jordan grab a bottle of salve from the dresser, choosing instead to close his eyes and go back to sleep.

“Ouch!” Stiles jerks up moments later, feeling Jordan smear the sticky paste onto his claim bite. “Can you not?” He moans, hiding his face in his arms.

Jordan snorts, and continues to rub the salve into Stiles’ neck.

“You want an infection?”

Stiles groans, says no, and turns his head a bit more to give Jordan better access.

“Good boy,” Jordan says.

Stiles fidgets when he feels Derek’s finger poking around his raw and irritated hole. A second later, he feels the salve being put there too. He can’t help but reflexively kick his legs. He knew it: he feels so fucking sore down there, he’s pretty sure he’s ready to start a celibate lifestyle.

Derek grumbles and pins his legs down. “I dare you to kick me in the face, Stiles.”

Stiles swallows and forces himself still.

“Sorry, sir,” he sheepishly says.

Derek pecks his ankle in forgiveness and turns to Jordan.

“I’ll make a few calls tomorrow and get him an appointment at the clinic.”

“Good,” Jordan says, cutting a strip of gauze and taping it under the collar and over the claim bite.

“Clinic?” Stiles asks.

“Got to get you checked out, kiddo,” Derek says. “It won’t be long until your first heat now.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, blanching at the thought.

“It’ll be fine,” Jordan comforts, scratching Stiles’ head and putting the salve aside. “A doc will answer any questions you might have about it…prepare you, even.”

Derek doesn’t want Stiles to tense up right when they’ve just brought him down. He moves his fingers lower, gently pressing into a particular tender spot on the back of Stiles’ thighs, massaging the seized up muscles there.

Stiles lets out a long whimper. “Didn’t even know those muscles existed.”

He’s left there, feeling like jelly again, and there’s a pleasant tingling sensation everywhere the salve was put.

Derek crawls up the bed, Jordan pushing Stiles in between their bodies. Derek’s massive palm presses against Stiles’ soft belly, covering most of it, and after a few seconds, Stiles sees dark, moving veins shoot up Derek’s arm.

“Now, I’m not getting rid of all the pain,” Derek whispers in his ear. “Jordan and I both have traditional upbringings. We think it’s important for omegas to feel the soreness of a claim. I want to see you walk a little funny, look a bit disheveled with our marks on you.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says softly. "Ok." He totally gets it. Alphas need evidence of a job well done, and Stiles needs a reminder of his place in the pack. “I didn’t even know you could take pain away.”

“For well behaved pups like you?” Sure,” Derek teases.

Stiles relaxes, drifting further and further off while the tension seeps out of him. Jordan nuzzles his nose into Stiles’ cheek, a low rumble forming in his throat when he scents the boy’s satisfaction.

“You belong to me and Derek,” he says all of a sudden, his arms tightening around Stiles’ hips.

Jordan’s words aren’t just _there_ , aren’t just words meant to fill the silence in the air – it isn’t some post-sex, hazy declaration; there’s a heat behind those words and Stiles knows it. It’s not just a nice, sweet assurance that Stiles is safe and protected – it’s also law written in stone.

_You belong to me and Derek._

Stiles is pack now, claimed and all. He’s expected to respect this mated hierarchy Derek and Jordan have created, and Stiles will.

Of course he will.

He knows his place - under them, _always_ - and he’ll submit to them. Sure, his smart mouth gets away from him once and awhile, and okay, maybe he can be a bit adventurous at times, but if the points he piled up at the agency are anything to go by, he can be pretty damn good when he wants to be.

And honestly? Deep down honestly? He knows who he answers to at the end of the day (wow, he actually has someone _to_ answer to now), and the thought of being owned like that makes him feel warm and settled.

He feels like he’s flying, and he wants to kick himself because, ugh, that sounds dumb. But it’s true. He’s flying.

It’s nice knowing where he fits now. He didn’t know where he was hours and hours ago, before the pizza, before the running…

But he gets it now. He can feel the bond between the three of them strengthening by the minute and it all feels kind of fated.

“Yes, sir,” Stiles responds when he realizes he hasn’t actually said anything yet. Timidly, he puts his hand over Jordan’s, the one gripping his hip. “I understand.”

And they stay like that, quiet, and Stiles’ eyes glaze over and it’s evident he just wants to be held and petted until he falls asleep. Two sets of arms are draped over him, one of Jordan’s legs are pushed between both of his, while Derek has a leg swung on top. Stiles probably can’t move much, and he probably feels more body than mattress at this point, but that’s okay because he should feel this secure when he’s so far gone.

“He’s pretty under, isn’t he?” Jordan asks Derek.

“Yep.” Derek smiles. “It’s nice to finally have him out of that panicked headspace of his. The bond looks good on him.”

Jordan listens to Stiles’ even breathing, his eyes widening just a bit.

“Der. Oh my god. We have an omega.”

“We have an omega,” Derek confirms.

*

Jordan doesn’t mean to be an asshole about things, but having sex with Stiles has changed him both physically and mentally.

It’s around 5 A.M., and Jordan’s up and bothered by his raging, clothed erection that is currently poking Stiles’ stomach. He’s not entirely surprised. After all, he was resting his head in the crook of Stiles’ neck; the omega's scent alone pushes all the right buttons for him. 

“Stiles?” Jordan whispers, craning to kiss Stiles’ cheek.

“Hmm?” Stiles mumbles, blinking his eyes open.

Jordan traces one of Stiles’ fingers along the outline of his cock. “Can you take care of this?”  

Stiles is mesmerized when it twitches in its confines. He feels much more awake now, and lifts himself up.

“Ye-" he swallows, nodding eagerly. "Yes. I can do that.” 

“Derek,” Jordan says, shaking the other Alpha’s shoulder.

Derek wakes up, groggy and disorientated at first, but then quickly assesses the situation: Stiles awake and wide eyed, and Jordan biting his lip, hard as a rock, and looking at him beseechingly. 

Derek’s not surprised either. Hell, he’s woken Jordan up plenty of times in the middle of the night. What can he really say? They’re slaves to their biology.

“Go on,” Derek allows, throwing an indulgent look Jordan's way. “Flip him over and fuck him. He’s sore, but I bet he’ll take it like a good boy.”

Stiles nods in agreement, he _is_ a good boy, thank you, and rolls onto his back.

Derek can’t help but inwardly rejoice when he realizes Stiles is finally listening to his instincts. It’s good that the bond worked. In these sorts of circumstances, nature insists Alphas dominate and take what they want, while omegas submit. It’s in their genetic make-up and it’s how bonds strengthen.

And Jordan wants Stiles. Right now.

This is all new to Jordan, and Derek knows the younger Alpha would have lost his patience with an omega who didn’t submit in these situations.

But Stiles is being perfect, stretching out against the bed and allowing Jordan to caress his sensitive hole. He does squirm a little, but Jordan steadies him.

“Okay, Jordan. Just trust yourself,” Derek says. “Use all your senses. You’re his Alpha, and deep inside you, you know what he can and can’t take.”

Jordan exhales slowly, and studies Stiles. The boy looks a mess from last night, but he smells fine. Not distressed or scared. Tired, sure. Pained? As much as was to be expected. But another fuck isn’t going to end the world.

Jordan needs it badly. Reading Jordan's face, Derek turns to the bedside table and grabs something. He hands the object to Jordan, curious to see if it would pique his interest.

Jordan swallows hard, his arousal spiking up ten-fold when he looks at the cock cage in his hand. They bought it at an upscale omega boutique months and months ago, and Jordan was pretty excited about it. It’s steel, with a small padlock to connect the ring with the cage. Jordan was initially worried about the size, thinking it was way too small, but he was ensured it would most likely fit. Looking at Stiles now, Jordan has to agree.

Stiles looks down at the cage, letting out a small noise of wonder. It looks pretty and elegant and nothing like the plastic ones used at the agency to keep young boys in chastity in order to control their wild hormones.

Jordan wraps his hand around Stiles’ soft, hairless cock, and tightens his grip slowly, gently, pleased when he feels a convulsive tremor. He plays around a little, rubbing his thumb along the head and squeezing in short intervals. Stiles bites the inside of his cheek, keeping his gasps at bay, and then Jordan suddenly stops, not wanting Stiles to get too excited. He maneuvers the cock cage on, humming happily when Stiles finally releases all those quiet little whimpers he was holding onto. Jordan has to squeeze his own crotch; hearing his omega make sounds like that just because of a cock cage sends _claim claim claim_ signals to his brain.

When Stiles is secured, Derek and Jordan both examine the device to make sure it’s fitted correctly.

Content with it, Jordan pushes Stiles’ legs up and over his shoulders to get a better view of Stiles’ hole. Stiles is nicely wet, some of his slick slipping out and running down his flesh. When Jordan pushes two of his fingers in, Stiles’ squeals and jerks like he has a poisonous spider on him.

Jordan takes the movements in stride, confident in his ability to control the situation, thinking about this in a very “What would Derek do?” sort of way. He keeps his fingers still, knowing that it will eventually just drive Stiles mad enough to begin moving against him.

Embarrassingly enough for the poor kid, Stiles has no self control and barely tolerates a minute of Jordan’s stagnant state; he moves his hips up, begging Jordan to keep going.

Derek lightly smacks his hips down though, causing Stiles to yelp.

“Behave. You know you’re not in control here,” Derek says.

“Yes, sir,” Stiles mumbles, slowing his breathing down.

Jordan thrusts his fingers steadily, goes in in in, and then hooks up.

Stiles screams and arches up involuntarily, realizing the hard way that a cock cage and fucking don’t mix. And he knew that, really, but he wasn’t actually getting fucked at the agency and holy shit, _this_ is why there were rumors among the boys about cages being the most miserable fucking thing.

“He’s so responsive, isn’t he?” Jordan murmurs, continuously pressing against Stiles' prostate. 

“Very,” Derek says, inching his hand down Stiles’ trapped cock. “Look at how cooperative he’s being. Look at how his nice, tight hole quakes when it knows it’s going to be used.”

“Oh my God,” Stiles cries, feeling Derek’s grip get hard.

Stiles is starting to feel like one of those insatiable omegas they used to show on T.V. decades ago, the ones who were considered perfect because they were always under their Alpha’s thumb. They were the ones Stiles used to make fun of because of how dependent they were on their Alphas for any sort of pleasure.

But here he is, acting the same way.

He can’t help it.

And he kind of really loves it.

Jordan takes his cock out of his boxers, and fucks it along Stiles’ inner thigh.

“Mmm.” Jordan lightly bites Stiles’ calf and continues to hump. “Are you going to take care of Derek too? I’m sure he’ll want you.”

Derek laughs when Stiles groans and turns his head to bury his face into Derek’s bicep.

Jordan traces his cock back down to Stiles’ red-rimmed and trembling hole, leaving a trail of his pre-come along Stiles’ thigh and ass.

Stiles feels himself strain even more in the cage, and this time, subtly, he tries to roll his hips up and rub himself against Jordan for some sort of stimulation.

Jordan misses nothing, though, and gives him two spanks for his efforts. Derek only nods in approval.

“Feeling desperate?” Jordan asks, pressing his cock around the red imprint he made.

“Please,” Stiles begs into Derek’s bicep.

Derek presses a cool hand onto Stiles flushed face. “Sweet little pup.”

Jordan lines up and carefully pushes in the swollen head of his cock, before pulling out again. A string of Stiles’ wetness follows, and Jordan wipes it off on the plush of Stiles’ ass before pushing his cock back in.

Jordan goes slow this time, wanting to revel in all the sensations, wanting to revel in the bond. The first fuck was solely about power and bonding; a jerky and eager claim where he couldn’t even knot the first time around. But Jordan can really celebrate their union now. The smooth and noisy slide of his cock breaching though the tightness soothes his wolf; there is no doubt about who owns this boy. Stiles is so constricting and hot, his hole clenching and sucking Jordan in so readily, that Jordan has to pause halfway in.

Stiles cries out, beyond mildly frustrated, and squeezes his hands into fists. It’s adorable, really. Jordan decides he likes making Stiles endure a slow slide, because like this, the boy’s ass works his cock in the best way.

“You’re doing so good for me, pup,” Jordan sighs. “So good.”

He’s a few more inches away from bottoming out, so he starts up again, pushing all the way in while running a hand up one of Stiles’ legs, which is shaking on his shoulder. Stiles grunts when he feels the starting of Jordan’s knot kissing his rim.

Jordan rocks back, pulling all the way out, before brutally slamming in again.

Stiles wails into Derek, who rubs a thumb behind the boy’s ear to calm him.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Derek says.

Jordan sets up a languid, punishing pace, enjoying the feeling of his knot popping in and out and catching on Stiles’ rim. Stiles is whining so much, Derek has the mind to pacify him with his own cock. That idea worked well earlier, when Derek was the one doing the pounding, so Derek doesn’t really think twice; he lifts up to sit on his feet, takes his cock out, and turns Stiles’ head enough to where he can comfortably coax himself into Stiles’ whimpering mouth. He releases a soft growl when he sees Stiles begin to relax and suck, like nothing else in the world matters.

Stiles apparently has a fixation, and it’s a very welcome surprise. Derek can’t help but imagine Stiles warming their cocks while they’re working on something, or eating, or just watching T.V.

Jordan keeps thrusting, palming Stiles’ balls. Derek and Jordan both feel the reflex; Stiles’ hole spasms, clamping onto Jordan hard, and Stiles lets out a loud moan around Derek’s dick. It causes both of them to let out animalistic roars, and Stiles shivers when he feels their knots expand more.

Jordan continues to palm him, suppressing another growl when he sees Stiles’ body shudder. If Stiles looked ruined last night, he’s a disaster now.

He sweetly traces his fingertips along Stiles’ caged cock as he pushes his knot in to tie them together. Derek enjoys the vibration of Stiles’ cries and pushes in further so that his tip is brushing past Stiles’ tonsils. Stiles’ lips are rounded on Derek’s knot, and Derek briefly wonders if Stiles is capable of being knotted in the mouth.

Derek doesn’t force it, but he is shocked when Stiles does.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Derek says, when Stiles leans to take more of Derek in, swallowing and relaxing his throat to accommodate the massive length.

Stiles likes that his Alphas look at him with worry, but he’s actually practiced this trick at the agency. Granted, only with dildos, but he did practice and he wants to show them what he can do. He knows when Derek comes, he’s going to have to keep swallowing and swallowing so he doesn’t choke. He’s ready for it.

Derek’s holding his breath, and even Jordan stopped moving, watching Stiles’ face. Derek’s knot is resting behind Stiles’ teeth, coated with saliva and heat and Stiles’ quivering wheezes. But Stiles is breathing through his nose like a champ. Looking up at them with watery eyes, he gives them a thumbs up, before licking Derek’s knot.

Derek can’t stand it. He grips Stiles’ hair and grinds his pelvis against the omega's face until he’s howling out his release. He wets his lips when he sees Stiles’ throat working to swallow all the come.

“Good boy,” he moans, massaging Stiles’ stressed jaw with his thumb.

Jordan can’t wait anymore either. He clutches onto the bedding, and with a few more limited thrusts and tugs, he’s coming too. He fills Stiles up, all while rubbing in his knot like Derek taught him. He leans forward to kiss the side of Stiles’ stretched mouth, licking up any of the drool or sweat lingering on his skin.

Derek’s cock is erratic, still releasing shot after shot of come down Stiles’ throat. Jordan keeps moving his hips too, feeling no end in his own release.

“You’re doing good, Stiles. You look so nice when you’re getting filled up,” Derek says. “We’re almost done.”

When their knots do go down, Derek and Jordan gently remove themselves. Stiles takes a deep breath and sucks his lips in, before exhaling slowly. He’s half asleep already, but Derek gets his attention when he touches the cage.

“You deserve a treat after that. If I take this off, would you like to hump a pillow?”

“Yes!” Stiles doesn’t even have to think about it. He doesn’t care how he comes, as long as he gets to.

Derek relieves him of the cage, while Jordan places a pillow at the middle of the bed. Stiles rolls onto his belly, widening his legs to straddle the pillow, and begins to pound his hips down.

Derek and Jordan press up beside him, removing the gauze from his neck, and taking turns licking the bite.

“He’s enthusiastic,” Derek comments, stroking Stiles’ back as he shoves his cock into the pillow faster.

It doesn’t take Stiles long to sob out his climax. And even though it’s already morning, he falls right back asleep at least for another hour or two.

*

When Stiles wakes up again, he wakes up to an empty bed. He feels a little cranky, and he knows his Alphas are about to find out what he’s _really_ like in the morning.

Rays of daylight bleed through the bedroom curtains, hitting Stiles right in the eyes. He beats the mattress with his fist, his irritation making an appearance. He twists out of the sheets and sits up to take a calming breath. When he finally stands, he realizes the soreness from last night is hitting him at full swing. He struggles as he starts his walk to the door, but he's cut short when he trips over Jordan’s jeans and falls over.

Face down on the floor, he’s close to growling. But he knows his growl sounds like a mortifying whine at best.

Stiles doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this ill-tempered, but maybe it’s because he was expecting to wake up next to Jordan and Derek and they ended up not being there. Maybe it was because he needed more sleep. If he was smart about all this, he’d probably just go back to bed. But he wants Derek. He wants Jordan.

He wants to punch something.

He manages to find the stairs, this being the first time he’s been alone in any part of the loft, and makes his way down fully naked. In retrospect, he probably should have put on Jordan’s jeans, so he’d be a bit classier about this all, but let’s be real: he’s too aggravated to care and he’s classy always, naked or not.

When he reaches the bottom steps, he sees a boxer clad Jordan leaning against the back of the couch, sipping on coffee and watching Derek put on a pair of black boots. But what really shocks Stiles is when he sees a gun on the coffee table, next to Derek’s open wallet that showcases federal credentials.

How could a day that’s barely even started be so bad already?

“Uh, hey.” Stiles speaks up.

Jordan turns toward him first, giving him a disapproving look.

“You should be in bed.”

“And what about you?” Stiles snaps back.

He immediately regrets his tone when he sees Jordan clench his jaw and Derek up on his feet, with a glare that’s burning hot.

“Want to try that again?” Derek asks, his voice low and hard.

Stiles shuffles on his feet, lowers his gaze, and shakes his head.

Derek sighs. “You’re tired, kiddo. Go back to bed and come back down only when you’re ready to be a good boy.”

“You two were gone, so…” Stiles blushes.

“Derek has a work emergency,” Jordan says. “I’m just seeing him out. I’ll be back up soon.”

“You’re a cop?” Stiles asks, pointing to the creds.

“Ah, yeah. Should have mentioned that earlier, huh?” Derek flashes him a grin, softening the blow from this earlier reprimand, and puts on his leather jacket. “I’ve been with the Bureau for years. Jordan too, but he’s currently on leave.”

Stiles’ throat becomes dry. “Oh, So you’re…both…?”

Derek’s running late, but with the way Stiles is looking at them, he’s not so sure he should go now.

“Is something the matter, pup?”

“No…no,” Stiles brushes it off. “I mean, it’s not the safest job out there, y’know? It’s not teaching or whatever. I didn’t think…yeah…uh…you know what? It’s okay. I’m okay. You guys aren’t, like, dead or anything yet. So you’re probably good at what you do and stuff. You know, since you’re not dead.”

Jordan and Derek give him a concerned look-over. They never thought their occupation would be a problem, especially since Jordan took a leave of absence to settle Stiles into their home. Hell, even Derek’s considering a break. They certainly have the funds to do it.

Now’s probably not a good time to tell Stiles about how Derek got shot in the arm a few months ago (but it was fine, really, he’s a wolf) or how Jordan is actually apart of the bomb squad.

“Stiles, we’re great at what we do. We’re careful,” Jordan says.

Stiles coughs, wanting so badly to hide how anxious all this really makes him feel.

“So there’s an emergency? Some killer on the loose or something?”

“Or something,” Derek says, pocketing his creds and holstering his gun.

He kisses Jordan goodbye, before walking over to Stiles to kiss him as well.

“Try not to worry too much, okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles agrees.

“Also," Derek gives him a pointed look that Stiles can't bring himself to meet. "I know a temperamental teenager when I see one. I know an omega pushing boundaries when I see one. Lose the attitude, pup. If Jordan has to punish you while I’m away, you better believe you’ll get a second round with me when I get home. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Stiles doesn't say anything, just shakes his head and looks at his feet instead.

Derek forces his head up, keeping a firm hold on the back of his neck.

"Would you?" Derek's voice is ten times more Alpha Dom now, if that's even possible. 

“N-no,” Stiles stammers. “No, sir. I’ll be good.”

“Good.” Derek kisses him again. “When I’m back, we’ll go over some rules. For now, I want you in bed, kiddo.”

Stiles obeys, turning on his feet and looking so much more contrite now.

Derek and Jordan watch their omega walk up the steps, maybe feeling a little too accomplished when they see him limp a little.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since they've established and consummated their little triad, the pace will definitely pick up after this! 
> 
> As always, I love reading your thoughts! I'm even open to requests, if I feel like they'll fit this story well.  
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> xx


	5. SERVICE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope. Not a joke. 
> 
> I actually have another update! Go me! 
> 
> Forgive me for any huge grammatical mistakes (or I guess any kind of mistake). My eyes have been on this chapter too long, and I can't see straight anymore. But I will look out for errors and fix them as I see them. 
> 
> **spanking in this chapter!**
> 
> (No beta + read tags)

Derek’s walking through the front door of the federal building when his phone rings. When he sees it’s Jordan calling him, his brows knit together. He _just_ left the loft, not even fifteen minutes ago.

When he answers, he doesn’t even get the first word in.

“Koala bear,” Jordan says.

“What?”

“Stiles is like a koala bear. After you left, I went upstairs and he clung to me like his life depended on it. I got him to sleep now, but he made me promise to call you and make sure you got to work okay. So did you get to work okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, not entirely sure what to do with this new development. “Just got here. Is he alright? Should I come home?”

“No, no,” Jordan assures. “I’ll take care of him. I rather him stick to me like a second shadow than run from me.”

“I don’t think he took the FBI thing too well this morning.”

“Yeah.” Jordan lets out a breath. “Kid’s using your pillow, Der. Like you left the country or something.”

And that information almost physically pains Derek to hear; His omega hates that he left.

“Don’t let him out of your sight,” Derek orders. “We’ll talk to him tonight.”

“Yessir,” Jordan says. “I’ll let him know you got to work.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you later. Love you.”

“Eh, you’re alright. I guess,”

With a chuckle, Derek hangs up.

Going up the elevator, Derek tries to process Stiles’ behavior. He has this kid he’s responsible for now, and it makes him feel great; Stiles is truly reliant on his and Jordan’s care, and that warmly fills this void in him he didn’t even know was there. But he knows Stiles isn’t telling them something. Which, _god,_ it just fucking sucks, because Derek was built to protect his own and it kills him that he doesn’t have all the information.

But then again, Derek doesn’t know what it’s like to have his life turned upside down, inside out and everything in between. So if Stiles wants to keep secrets, Derek’s willing to play along – _for now_.

The truth is, Stiles was a closed book to begin with. Because he was a ward of the state, his adoption papers provided minimal background information. Stiles literally only came with a six letter name and a lot of love to give.

Derek can only hope his pup tells them _something,_ because he won’t be able to survive Stiles’ anxious looks every time he has to go to work.

Laura greets Derek right off the elevator, shoving a cup of coffee in his face and offering a huge grin.

“Okay,” Derek sighs, taking the coffee and walking to his desk. “I’ll take the bait. What do you need?”

“Can’t I buy my little brother coffee, no strings attached?”

“Sure,” Derek starts. “You _can_ , but you don’t.”

Derek sits down at his desk, Laura not leaving his side, and begins flipping through the case he was abruptly assigned this morning.

-An unknown drug, eliciting violent reactions, reportedly being sold to impressionable young Alphas all down the west coast, from Seattle to the Mexican border.

-A dead omega, 12 years old, found in Beacon Hills at 7 A.M this morning.

-Two fifteen-year-old Alphas, found covered in blood only blocks away, high as kites and in custody.

Since this is the drug’s first appearance in Beacon Hills, Derek only has a small window to nab whoever’s dealing in these parts and help the FBI uncover the true leader of the operation; a leader who has managed to evade authorities in three states, and even some border towns in Mexico.

He mentally prepares a to-do list. A lot needs to get done, including a trip across town, where the two arrested Alphas are being booked by local P.D. Derek officially has jurisdiction, so he makes a quick call to make sure they received his director’s notice.

When Derek gets off the phone, he sighs, sits back, and looks at Laura with tired eyes.

Laura gives him a sympathetic glance. As of late, Derek hasn’t been dealing with the easiest cases. Not that cases are ever easy, but the ones coming in these past few months have been downright terrible.

 “Just give me two minutes, Derek. Two. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Yeah, okay,” Derek relents.

“So how was it?!” Did it take you long to pick him out? Did Jordan’s rough, Alpha exterior melt into a puddle of fluff when he saw him? Did yours?! I want to know everything!”

“It was great,” Derek says, turning to write some case notes. “We were working with that private agency on 5th. It took us some time, but when we saw this seventeen-year-old kid, we both knew we found the perfect match for us. I swear, Jordan’s a natural with him. And the boy? Well, he’s a total sweetheart.”

Laura pauses, considering her next words.

“Sooo…MomWantsToMeetHim,” she says quickly. “Dinner on Saturday.”

“No,” Derek says flatly.

“C’mon,” Laura whines. “I bought you coffee. Five dollars worth!”

“He’s not ready for that, Lor.” Derek doesn’t look at her, doesn’t turn away from his work. “He had a panic attack yesterday and took a short run across our living room. Jordan nearly lost it.”

“Oh.” Laura frowns. “So no bond?”

Derek looks back to give her a small smile. “No, we bonded. Everyone’s fine now. Sort of. I think the fact that Jordan and I work for the FBI is freaking him out a bit. I don’t think he’s ready to meet the family. I don’t want to overwhelm him.” Derek picks up his case file, and walks to the copy room, Laura right on his heels.

“But Derek, he’s pack now!”

 “I get that, Laura. I do. But Saturday is way too soon.”

“Then next week,” Laura begs. “Work with me here.”

Derek stops, stares, groans, and then rolls his eyes.

“Let me talk to Jordan,” he says, and continues his trek to the copier.

“Great!” Laura chirps. “So does our new puppy have a name?”

“Stiles.” Derek is too busy with his paperwork to notice Laura pale, and keeps talking. “Jordan and I are thinking Parrish-Hale for the surname. I was fighting for just Hale, but you know Jordan, sometimes I have to let him win.”

“And what are Stiles’ parents like? What are their names?” Laura softly asks.

Derek hesitates. “Look, he was orphaned, so his papers say next to nothing. He hasn’t mentioned his family to us and I don’t even know if he remembers them. I _do_ know that if anyone makes one little hair on his head uncomfortable by bringing it up at this dinner you and mom planned, I’ll make their life hell for the foreseeable future.”

 “Uh, Derek,” Laura falters. “Derek, come to my desk.”

“Your two minutes are up,” Derek says.

Laura can’t manhandle him by any means, but the serious look on her face does convince Derek to gather his things and follow her.

Laura rustles through her desk drawer, going through several files before she finds what she’s looking for.

She hands it over to Derek, who looks down at what turns out to be a missing persons flyer.

“The Beacon Hills sheriff went missing three years ago?”

“Yeah, the old one. He went missing while on duty and was never found,” Laura says. “You and Jordan were still living in Atlanta, but it was a big deal here. I was on the case.”

“Okay, so…?”

“So,” Laura continues. “The sheriff had an omega son he put up for adoption at the private agency on 5th. He wanted the best for him, and the agency on 5th? They have the most thorough Alpha screening process in the entire state.”

Derek stomach turns, afraid of where this conversation is going.

“The sheriff used to visit him at least four times a week, if not more. No matter who ended up adopting his son, John Stilinski was determined to be a part of that life. John went missing six months later. Six months after _that_ , and the omega was deemed property of the state. John was all he had and all records of John were erased from the omega’s file, as per law.”

“Laura, stop,” Derek says, shaking his head.

“Stiles is such a unique name,” Laura looks at her brother compassionately. “I would never forget it. Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and scrunches his eyes shut.

_Well, fuck._

*

As the morning wears on, Stiles is in a better mood. Jordan cinches him into the smallest pair of joggers he owns (which is still too big for Stiles), and covers his torso with one of Derek’s sweatshirts (which also swallows him). But Stiles is secretly delighted about how Derek’s scent is easily accessible to him for the rest of the day.

He’s a bit embarrassed, because while Jordan was busy doing his morning routine, Stiles kept following him around like some little kid. They even stumbled into each other once, but Jordan’s so kind, which Stiles is so so grateful for. He simply just smiled at Stiles, said “Excuse me, darlin’” with a southern drawl that slipped out, and in times like these, when Stiles feels worried about things, kindness makes him melt.

They’re in the kitchen now, and Jordan is toasting up some frozen waffles for breakfast.

Stiles wrinkles his nose.

 _Cops are hopeless_.

Busy hours, Chinese takeout, protein shakes as meal replacers, fit bodies, sure, but high cholesterol – Stiles knows it all too well.

If Derek is as bad as Jordan is in the kitchen, Stiles will need to figure out how to discreetly take over in a way they won’t be offended.

Who is he kidding? _Cops._ He doesn’t trust Derek in the kitchen for a second. Did his Alpha even eat breakfast before leaving this morning?

“So,” Stiles speaks up, playing with the the place mat in front of him. “How do you feel about chores?”

“What?” Jordan pulls out the waffles from the toaster, bouncing each hot piece from hand to hand before tossing it onto a plate.

“Chores. I know how to clean, and do laundry, and cook even. Y’know, the works.”

“Oh.”

Sure, at the beginning of the adoption process, Derek and Jordan wanted a skilled omega. They have busy days, and coming home to freshly laundered blankets and a cooked meal sounded like a big step up in life. They weren’t lying when they told Stiles they were traditional. But at the same time, they didn’t want to shock Stiles by throwing him into the deep end, head first.

Stiles can already hear Jordan’s nonchalant “don’t worry about it”, can practically see the words tumbling off his tongue, so he takes a different approach. He stands and walks to his Alpha until they’re only an inch apart, and gracefully kneels.  Keeping a bowed head, Stiles says,

“Sir, it’s my _duty.”_

Jordan is stunned into silence, impressed with the boy’s subservience.

“Yes,” Jordan eventually agrees. “I’m glad you understand that. But we weren’t going to make it a rule right now.”

“You can if you want,” Stiles offers.

Jordan ponders this for a minute before gripping Stiles’ chin, the pressure verging on uncomfortable, and forcing Stiles to look up at him.

“You do realize that once I tell you it’s your responsibility to have breakfast on the table every morning at a certain time, a packed lunch ready when it’s necessary, and a hot dinner waiting for Derek or me or both of us when we come home, there will be consequences if you fail? If the loft is untidy, if there are dishes in the sink, or if our laundry hamper begins to overflow, you understand that you will be punished?”

“I understand, sir.” Stiles hears how meek his voice sounds. He soaks in everything he’s feeling right now while on his knees, and looking up at his Alpha: chills down his spine, cheeks running hot, anxious fingers that want to touch, but really he has no clue what to do with them, and also, more importantly, a solid, confident heartbeat that’s telling him “this is where you belong.”

“Are you sure?” Jordan asks steadily. “I don’t play games, Stiles.”

“I’m sure.”

Stiles gives him a poised stare, wanting Jordan to see he’s very much okay with this, but he can only stare at Jordan like that for so long – he lowers his gaze soon after.

“I expect dinner to be on the table at 6:00 tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jordan gives him a fond look, shaking his head.

“Ok, pup. Pour me a cup of coffee and get yourself some milk,” he says, taking the waffles back to the table. “We’ve got a lot to get done today.”

*

Around 2:00, they find themselves at a ritzy omega boutique. It’s not really Jordan’s taste, the expensive air that surrounds him and the prim associates who are at his beck and call so his and Derek’s needs are reflected in Stiles’ clothing, but the quality he gets here is hard to pass up.

He sits in a blue armchair, drinking a complementary beer, while Stiles is in the fitting room, struggling to try on five pairs of jeans that were picked out for him. He already purchased the boy’s underwear, much to Stiles’ delight, but he didn’t realize how averse Stiles was to actual clothing until now. Maybe not all clothing, but jeans were something they both discovered Stiles didn’t like.

“They’re too tight,” Stiles complains, from the other side of the door.

“They’re your size,” Jordan says.

“It's too hot,” Stiles says.

“Stiles,” Jordan warns. “I can give you a sore ass and then make you try on some jeans. Would you prefer that?”

A young omega working as a stocker in the boutique, not even thirteen yet and probably the owner’s boy, overhears Jordan and blushes. Jordan looks at him, amused.

Stiles grumbles and opens the door to reveal the first pair, accessorized with a full on pout.

They look great - dark washed with a slim fit. Jordan motions Stiles to come closer to him, which Stiles obediently does.

He puts his beer aside and runs his hand over the curve of Stiles’ ass, sticking two of his fingers in at the waist to make sure they’re not as tight as Stiles was complaining about. They’re not.

“Not trying to torture you, pup, so lose the pout,” Jordan says. “I could make you wear skinny jeans. You’d _really_ hate that.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything for a bit, then timidly responds, “You wouldn’t do that, right?”

“Embrace the _very_ reasonable clothing I give you, and we won’t go there. Be a good boy, and maybe I’ll even let you pick something out.” Jordan swats Stiles’ newly covered ass. “Back to the fitting room.”

Stiles resigns himself to Jordan’s mercy as Jordan continues giving him clothes to try on, including some dress shirts and slacks for formal occasions. Stiles even gets fitted by a tailor.

By the end of it, Stiles is happy to be back in Derek’s sweatshirt and Jordan lets him get whatever he wants for behaving. Stiles ends up choosing socks adorned with the Batman logo, and Jordan doesn’t really question it; He told Stiles he could pick anything, really, and Stiles just wanted the socks.  

On the way home, Jordan stops at the grocery store. He watches Stiles drop things into the cart, things he and Derek would never really buy, and trusts that when Stiles said he knew how to cook, he wasn't lying. Most of their time is spent in the produce section, where all Jordan does is lean over the cart and watch Stiles compare two eggplants that look exactly the same. Jordan must have even voiced this at some point, because Stiles calmly replies, “Of course they’re not the same.”

*

Back at the loft, Stiles shoos Jordan out of the kitchen.

“And where exactly do you expect me to go?” Jordan asks.

“Can’t this be a surprise?” Stiles pleads. “It’ll be our first meal together, bonded.”

With a put-upon sigh, and a firm kiss on Stiles’ lips, Jordan retreats to the living room.

But not before Stiles timidly asks:

“Can you come back every once in a while? So I know you’re here, not gone?”

Jordan’s eyes soften.

“Of course.”

* 

It’s 5:55, and maybe Stiles was a little too ambitious in his quest to make the healthy version of eggplant parmesan. Sure, it was almost done, but there was no chance in hell it would be on the table by 6:00.

He hears the front door open, hears Derek’s tired “hey” to Jordan, and lets out a frustrated groan.

Why did he have to fuck up on his first go around?

*

Jordan takes in Derek’s appearance. He looks exhausted. More exhausted than usual.

“Hey,” Jordan greets. “Not such a good day, huh?”

“Could’ve been better. We've got some things we need to talk about,” Derek admits, wrapping Jordan up in his arms. Then he looks over Jordan’s shoulder, sees Stiles in the kitchen, and raises his eyebrows. “Is Stiles cooking?”

“He is,” Jordan smiles. “He was the one who brought it up, said he’s ready to do that for us.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. But he’s not going to get it on the table on time. I told him 6:00.”

Derek looks at his watch. 5:58.

“Naughty boy.”

“He knows there are consequences. I even told him he didn’t have to do any of this yet, but he’s stubborn. I think it was the waffles I gave him for breakfast. He wasn’t impressed.”

“I like this,” Derek grins, kissing Jordan. “Now that he’s started, I don’t think I’ll be able to give up home-cooked meals everyday. Smells too fucking good in here.”

“Hmm,” Jordan murmurs. “He’ll get better about the time thing.”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll make sure of that.”

*

Stiles looks at clock.

Well, okay. So it’s 30 minutes past six now, and neither Derek or Jordan have come into the kitchen to berate him. Stiles wants to think it’s because they have common courtesy. After all, he did tell Jordan he wanted no one near the food until he was done. But really, it’s probably because they want him to stew and sweat, or whatever.

Ugh.

He sets the table, brings the food over, and when he’s pretty sure he’s got everything covered, from drinks to dessert, he braces himself and goes into the living room.

Derek and Jordan are relaxing on the couch, talking. Stiles’ first instinct is to hurl himself into Derek’s arms, because _wow,_ he missed him so much and _Derek’s okay and safe and here and calm down, Stiles. Nothing happened to him._

But dinner’s already late and Stiles doesn’t want to prolong their hunger by being a sappy, needy omega.

“So, uh, food’s ready,” he announces.

They turn to see him anxiously waiting for them.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek says. “Want to come here first?”

Stiles does want to go, does want to be near Derek, but he knows _why_ Derek’s calling him over and “nope” is written all over that.

“Food’s going to get cold,” Stiles stalls.

“That’s alright,” Derek says easily. “Come here, please.”

Stiles shakes his head. “Maybe later?”

“Stiles, don’t make him come get you,” Jordan says, exasperated.

Stiles lets out a whine. Why can’t they just eat the food? Who really cares about the time?

“ _Stiles.”_ Derek's voice is sharp . “One.”

Stiles cringes and staggers forward slowly.

“ _Two.”_

That gets his ass moving quicker. When he reaches the couch, Derek grabs his wrist and pulls him onto his lap.

“When I call you, you come. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Stiles squirms.

Derek tightens his hold and maneuvers Stiles over his knee. Stiles yelps when he feels Derek pull down the joggers.

“Our punishments vary, but like the agency, we find spankings to be pretty effective,” Derek says.

“Not bare,” Stiles begs, struggling to get away.

“Yes bare,” Derek counters, giving him a sharp smack. “Keep fighting me and Jordan will get a wooden spoon from the kitchen.”

“No!” 

“No?” Derek strokes Stiles’ flesh. “Want to tell me why you’re in this position right now?”

When Stiles stays silent, Derek smacks him twice. “Don’t make it worse.”

“Dinner was late,” Stiles whimpers, his hands gripping onto the hem of Derek’s jeans.

“What time was dinner supposed to be on the table?”

“6:00.”

“And what time is it now?”

Stiles thinks. “6:35 or something. I don’t know.”

"The food can be burned for all we care." Derek pets Stiles' flank. "It's not about that. Punctuality keeps you healthy, and I'm pretty confident schedules will reduce your anxiety. But only if you abide by them."

Stiles didn't think about it like that, didn't really think why the rule was in place.

“Tardiness does not go unpunished in this household, which is why you're in this position. Jordan and I were trained to live on schedules. As our omega, you’re expected to get used to schedules too. I know it’s not easy, but it will be good for you." 

Derek starts by bringing down a volley of hard, relentless spanks, making sure no spot goes unmissed.

Stiles cries out in surprise, and flings his hand behind him to shield himself. Derek’s unfazed by it though, doesn’t stop and just grabs the hand and pins it to the small of Stiles’ back.

“Behave,” Derek says. "Don't needlessly earn yourself more."

"No, no! I'm sorry, I'll be still!" Stiles moans in protest.

“Now you know what my discipline feels like,” Derek says. “I’m sure Jordan’s won’t be much different either.”

He leans Stiles’ forward and peppers his thighs with stinging swats.

“No! Alpha, stop!”

“You can eat standing, tonight.” Derek coolly responds. “That seems appropriate, right Jordan?”

“Very.”

Derek shifts Stiles a bit higher and brings his hand down on Stiles’ sit spots.

“God! I’m sorry!” Stiles shouts, burying his face into Derek’s calf.

Derek continues to let down a flurry of swats until he feels Stiles sag across his lap, resigned to his fate. He hears a small, muffled sob, feels it on his leg, and with a few hard final spanks, he finishes.

He brings Stiles back up, the snotty mess he is, and hugs him close.

“Breathe,” Derek says. “Just breathe.”

Jordan leaves and comes back with a glass of water, which Stiles slowly sips from.

It takes a moment for him to calm down, but when he does, he looks at his Alphas apologetically.

“It’s okay, kiddo. You’re still learning,” Jordan says first, petting Stiles' hair back. “That’s why you got off so easy.”

“Easy?” Stiles asks in disbelief.

Jordan grins. “Easy.”

Stiles doesn’t want to know what hard is like. Ever.

“I heard you missed me today, pup." Derek says. "I wish you greeted me at the door.” 

“It was hard getting dinner ready on time,” Stiles whispers, leaning back into Derek’s embrace. “I didn’t want to step away.”

Derek kisses the top of his head, and Stiles takes the opportunity to soak him in, scent him. The tears from the spanking had already dried, but Stiles can feel it coming on again, thinking about how much he missed Derek throughout the day.

Unable to restrain it, he blubbers into Derek’s chest. “I tried not to worry like you said,” he cries. “I tried.”

“Stiles,” Derek says, hating how sad and defeated his boy sounds. “It’s okay. Sometimes we can’t help but worry. I’m here now.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbles, trying to compose himself. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm acting like this."

"It's normal," Jordan says. "Don't apologize for it."

Derek and Jordan spend a few minutes soothing him, before Derek speaks up again.

“From now on, I want you at the door when I come home. I want a kiss and a hello from you. Is that clear?”

Stiles sucks in his lips and nods. “Yes, sir.”

Derek wipes any remaining tears away, and rubs up and down his back.

“Okay. Now what's for dinner?"

*

Derek and Jordan frown at their plates. It smells godly delicious, but…

“There’s no meat,” Jordan says.

Stiles is standing at the table, as per his punishment. He's glad for it, frankly, because he doesn't think he'd be able to sit even if he wanted to. 

“Nope,” he replies, shoving a forkful of oven-roasted eggplant into his mouth.

And Jordan knows they bought chicken, but this meal has none of it.

“We’re wolves, Stiles,” Derek informs. 

“I know.”

Derek and Jordan share a look.

Stiles puts his fork down. “Look, if you hate it, I won't make it again.”

After a moment, Derek and Jordan cautiously take a bite.

And then moan.

It _is_ good.

It’s more than good, actually.

Stiles happily watches his Alphas take seconds, and then thirds. By the time Stiles brings out the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies he baked, both Jordan and Derek have leaned back in their chairs, looking full and content.

“That was probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Jordan says, pulling Stiles down and kissing him softly.

Derek forces Stiles to sit on his lap, giving the boy a sympathetic smile when he sees the wince on his cute face, and kisses him soft and long enough to leave Stiles feeling dazed.

“Thank you,” Stiles says.

“Thank _you_ ,” Derek says.

“You know, I’m not a vegetarian,” Stiles clarifies, grabbing and biting into a cookie. “But knowing cops, I thought I’d make healthier meals for you two. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Knowing cops?” Jordan asks, looking confused.

Stiles freezes, his hands clamming up. 

“I don’t - I don't know why I said that.”

Derek exhales, feeling not only the rest of the day catching up to him, but also the weight of the world on his shoulders. He gives Stiles a gentle look.

"I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I could have delved into the discussion about Stiles' father, but it was already getting soooo long. I also wanted to go into the discussion of what the rest of the rules are. Next time ;)
> 
> Love reading everyone's feedback! It's much appreciated! Thank you!


	6. A.N. - Author's Note

**EDIT 5-24-2016:** After a lot of thought, I decided to do something I don't personally praise authors for doing: I went back and "re-wrote" the spanking scene. Now, by this I mean I took out the number and added 1-2 new lines. It's basically the same spanking but reading it how it is now probably won't freak people out because numbers aren't used. Again, I'm really against re-writing things once they've been posted, and I still stand by all that has been said, but if taking out a number makes people feel better, I can do that. I'm not making a habit of this, but I know a lot of people love this story and the last scene in the last chapter didn't come across like I intended. If this doesn't make current readers feel any better, that's okay, but hopefully it won't cause any problems for future readers. Doing this makes me feel slightly better about going on with this story, so this is really more about catering to my needs. I was more discouraged than I let on, but c'est la vie.  This notice will be taken down 2 days after the next chapter update and the AN note will be taken down as well, when there's a new chapter update, because it's deemed irrelevant and unnecessary now. I will, however, keep this chapter vacant because there were a lot of great discussions occurring in the comments. I will also continue to post countless reminders to check the tags of this story. 

-fin-

 

 

 

Apologies for letting you falsely believe this was another update. I'm not  _that_ fast, haha.

I really just wanted to take a moment and discuss the spanking scene in the last chapter because I've gotten three comments from people who thought it verged on abuse. I like the anonymity of Archive, so I don't want to get too TMI about my personal life but for the sake of clarification, I will. 

My writing comes from A) personal experience and B) research. As far as personal experience goes, my relationship is safe, sane, and consensual through and through. I have been on the receiving end of Stiles' punishment, so I'm going to try and explain why it's not as bad as it sounds. And if  _you_ have been on the receiving end of this many swats and thought it was unbearable, then I truly believe it's just a difference in technique and how the punishment is delivered.

My 60-ish swats and Stiles' 58:

The thing about going as long as 58 is that you have to spread out where you hit. For example, you have two cheeks that get ten each, two upper thighs that get ten each, and then, for the finale, those delicate sit-spots (where your ass meets your thighs) get ten each. That right there is 60. When it's broken down, it doesn't seem so bad. And it happens so fast, you don't even realize it. I told one of the commenters to try it on a pillow, broken down the way I described, to see for themselves. Clearly, my attempt at breaking it down when writing Derek's movement (ex. "He moved to the thighs, he moved to the sit spots) didn't really come through, especially since my language used words like "volley of swats" etc. But it's difficult not to sound repetitive when writing a spanking scene. "He hit the left cheek, he hit the right cheek, he hit the left..." You want to keep it an interesting read. So I expanded my vocabulary, but maybe not in the correct way. I can work on that. 

Don't get me wrong; with a heavy hand, it hurts and stings (but it's supposed to) but it is not even close to breaking skin or bruising. On my end, what I thought made the spanking even more manageable is the fact that an implement wasn't being used. Threatened? Yes. But never used. That would have been too much. 

From those three people, I was also asked if this story was going to go into abusive territory. The simple answer is no. Not. At. All.

That being said, I want my readers to PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags of this story. From the very beginning, this was filed under "AU-Slavery".  The adoption form is even called the "slave adoption form" in the first paragraph of this story. This is not a conventional d/s relationship. There are no contracts (I'm adding this tag now). I'm so sorry if that wasn't clear? I just figured with the way Stiles was adopted, it was obvious. Stiles is never asked if he wants to go with Derek and Jordan. The backstory about how some omegas get put into households with children who like to experiment? I thought that was sufficient enough to show you the gritty side of this world. On the flip side, we have Derek and Jordan who are disgusted by families like that. I think with how caring Derek and Jordan actually are, this gritty side gets forgotten. The reality of the world Stiles is in gets forgotten. 

So is it a dark, strange world? Yes. Abusive Derek and Jordan? Never going there. 

This is also tagged as "dub-con" because Stiles is 17 (though he does have a birthday coming up). I wanted to showcase that even though Stiles was "taken", it wasn't strange for him. He felt nervous being in a new territory, not nervous that he was adopted in the first place (ch. 2 - he's actually pretty excited). I thought these hints and clues were enough to set up what the society was like. Stiles was born into this world - not living conventionally and then forced into it. 

"Spanking" and "Domestic Discipline" are also tags. I should have clarified that spanking is a go-to punishment in this story, but I guess I thought the threats of giving Stiles a "sore ass" and the tags itself, and the warning at the top of chapter 5, was enough for everyone to infer. 

Alright, more specifically into the last chapter:

I know it was Stiles' first time cooking for Derek and Jordan (it wasn't his first time cooking. He tells Jordan he already knows how). But let's not forget that Jordan told him he didn't have to do chores yet. Stiles says he wants to, and Jordan very easily tells him that if he wants to commit to the responsibility, he had to accept the consequences. He goes on to say things like,

"Are you sure?"

"I don't play games"

etc.

This was 100% true. Derek and Jordan  _don't_ play games. They never planned on Stiles doing chores this early in the relationship, which is why Jordan didn't immediately say "yes" to Stiles. But he does, eventually, because Stiles insisted.

When Stiles messed up, taking on a meal that was too ambitious for the time, he knew he was going to get punished. He even tried to evade it. A big part of submission is taking responsibility. Do Derek and Jordan really care that dinner is late for the sake of eating? No. They _do_ care about whether or not Stiles has the self discipline to follow a set schedule. That's what Derek lectures him about; Stiles doesn't get lectured about Derek or Jordan being hungry. That would be a bit silly. Schedules are good for anyone, especially people with anxiety.

But it sucks, because it was Stiles first time cooking for them. But as the writer, I don't imagine Jordan or Derek going back on their word of punishment because of that. It opens the window for them to be lenient about other things, which doesn't fit their Alpha personalities in my head. But as Jordan said, Derek went easy with the punishment. Again, this probably failed to come through because of my language. Maybe putting a number on the swats made it sound scarier than it is. 

Just to be clear: THIS IS NOT RETCON. I only made this post to clarify the spanking scene, and my own thoughts/experience concerning it. Everything else I talk about in this post was already stated in the chapters or in the tags. I just wanted to remind everyone. 

I sincerely hope this helps. I wasn't trying to be weird about the spanking scene at all, certainly didn't think people would find it verging on abuse. I'm happy to answer any other questions about this. 

Thanks for reading (if you still are reading)! Time to get back to everyone else's comments. I just wanted to address the "abuse" ones first, because I felt it was important to do so. 

xx

 


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